A Dream of Summer Rain: Chapter 38 (Always Falling Down the Same Hill))

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***

CW: gaslighting, violence

29 Years Ago

Alistair marched up the mountain, shotgun in hand, flanked by Svetlanna and Elleanor. A platoon of zombies marched at their backs. The verdant slope was lit by a bright sun in a clear blue sky, while Alistair and his forces were a rising tide of black and rotting green. His zombies covered all sides of the mountain, attacking from every angle. They’d cleared five graveyards summoning the forces necessary for this siege, and even that did not suffice. Human zombies, bear zombies, wolf zombies, mountain lion zombies- anything that could be mustered as they slowly engulfed the mountain, striving for the small village at the top. The Ghoul Kingdom.

From out of holes in the ground emerged ghouls, alongside the swaths that poured down from the tops of the mountains. Wave after wave after wave buffeted them, some of them in humanoid form, but many not.

None of them were using Entropy. Not one.

Interesting, Alistair noted as he cleaved a ghoul’s head with an ax.

Alistair led his forces from the front, and with bullets and blades, with fire and blood, with death angels and death hands he met his opponents. The ghouls made quicker work of the zombies than expected; perhaps that shouldn’t have been surprising when they were exactly what ghouls tended to eat, coming to them instead of the other way around for a change. But still, even when feral and mutated, ghouls were made of stronger stuff than zombies; they were sustained by continuous dark magic, frozen at their current level of vitality if not necessarily mental capacity, whereas zombies, even when animated, were still in an active state of decay at all times. Not to mention ghouls could use weapons: mostly blades- they must have had limited access to bullets even on a good day. Zombies simply couldn’t, but that was why he had his in-laws backing him in a support chopper.

The helicopter rose up behind him, and gatling gun rounds soared over their heads and tore through the skulls of three massive, hulking ghouls with wide-faced fangs reaching out their mouths like long, hideous mandibles. Black blood painted the rocks all around, and from the corner of his eye Alistair saw Caroline give him a thumbs-up.

Intermittent cover fire provided the support they needed to keep punching their way upwards. Alistair fought three ghouls with swords, fought five who were unarmed, fought one who was a mere child charging at him with a grenade. Svetlanna killed that one before it could reach him, and threw the grenade back up the mountain, into the hole out of which the child climbed. Two dozen cries raced out of it as Alistair walked by, and he shot a column of fire down the hole for good measure.

Slowly, they rose up the mountain. By sundown, they’d reached the village, though they’d lost all their zombies upon arrival. Alistair’s three most trusted lieutenants- after Svetlanna and Elleanor, of course- awaited them: Abraham Nichols, a burly, red-bearded fellow from Nevada, who had come to the Sovereignty as a child after being liberated from his parents; Schlmo Goldstein from Beverly Hills, a short, wild-haired man whose eyes always looked like he was deep in thought, who had freed himself from a restrictive community after learning of his magic and finding the Sovereignty on his own; and Anna Lawrence, a giant of a woman, born from a prominent necromancer family in Scotland-she’d grown up in the life, and she’d waited for a long time to cut loose like this. She was covered head to toe in ghoul’s blood.

The town seemed smaller than when he’d been there as a child. Everything seemed bigger then, but still, it looked like a few buildings had been toppled. How did the swaths of vanquished ghouls all live here? They must’ve known he was coming, and the king had called the banners to his aid. Evidently, the King of the Ghouls commanded considerable loyalty.

There was only one way to save magic now. And Alistair was the only one willing to go through with it. To hell with the rest of the world- they would fall to him. He was the consequence of their mistakes, and they would know him before long.

The village was a series of circles built around each other, tightening the further in you went. At the center was a simple cabin, only two stories tall, made of plain oakwood. Alistair, Svetlanna, and Elleanor marched upon it, kicking down the door while Caroline and her lieutenants secured the area. Alistair summoned his Star, drank in the red light, and went inside.

The King of the Ghouls sat in an armchair in his Spartan home, a glass of blood and a plate of barbeque sauce-smothered human brisket on the coffee table before him, reading a comic book titled ‘Hellblazer.’ He looked as human as the last time Alistair had seen him. If anything, he looked younger: the age-lines on his face had faded, his eyes were bigger and wider, and black had come to dominate his once salt-and-pepper hair.

“Ah, Alistair, there you are,” Saul Emory said. “I was wondering what took you so long.”

“That would be your people, whom you sent out to die while you sat here and relaxed,” Alistair said. “But we crushed them. Killed every last one. You’re now an endangered species.”

The King put a bookmark in his comic, placed it on the table, and took a sip of blood. “Is that what you think? My kingdom is far larger than that paltry display. And most of them volunteered for this mission, except for the ones I don’t like, at least. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but I figured I should make you work for it.  The last time this happened to me, I tried so hard to resist, and only fell and fell and fell in the process. Now I see it happening again, and I want to know if the newest young upstart is truly deserving.”

Alistair furrowed his brow, twitched his fingers. “What are you talking about?”

“Heh. Oh nothing. I forget sometimes how many people have forgotten me entirely,” Saul said. “It’s been to my benefit. Allowed me to hide away and keep my people safe. But the time for hiding is ending, or it will be very soon. The world is going to change, and my people have a part to play in that- I’ve seen it, in my dreams and in the waking world both. But I am very old and very tired, and I cannot be the one to lead them into this new future. But I look to you, after testing your strength and your determination, and I know that my people will be in good hands going forward.”

Alistair balked. “You’re insane.”

“Am I?” He tapped his chest, and a Star emerged. It was a dark purple. Alistair’s red Star thrummed in response to its proximity. And then the two of them began orbiting Alistair in perfect time with one another. The closer the purple Star drew, the warmer and calmer Alistair felt. “My Star likes you. That’s exactly what it did when it first came to me. I wasn’t always this creature. I was once a normal man, albeit still a king, and necromancer. Like you. But it was my Destiny to become what I am. And it can be yours, if you want,” Saul said. “You’ll have to become like me. In fact, you’ll have to devour me to have it. But it can be yours. And it will be. Everything you’ve done, every choice you’ve made, has led you to this moment. To me. That red Star means it’s your Destiny to kill me, but that doesn’t have to be where the story ends.”

Mesmerized, Alistair reached out a hand, and a spark of purple light shocked him.

It felt… Amazing.

“This is a trick,” Svetlanna said, her St. Petersburg accent dragging on each syllable. “You’re full of shit!” She raised her SIG P365 and cocked the trigger.

“No, we need him alive,” Alistair said, putting a hand up. He turned his focus back to the king, and he retrieved a billy club from the inner pocket of his cloak. Worst came to worst he could beat this creature unconscious and take him by force. “Now, you’ll come with us.”

The King of the Ghouls… Chuckled. Not cackled, not even laughed, but chuckled. As if he’d heard this joke a million times and, while still mildly amusing, it stopped being truly funny some time ago. “Boy, you really don’t know what you’re doing, do you? You really don’t know what’s led you here?”

Alistair said nothing.

“This has gone far enough,” Elleanor said. “Let’s bag him and get out of here.”

“Of course you would be the one to say that, Elleanor,” Saul said.

Alistair blinked, his eyes flickering to the side. “What-”

“Nothing,” Elleanor said. “Like you said, he’s insane.”

“That is truly rich coming from you, the most deranged person in your entire family. I’ve murdered children, but at least they weren’t blood relations. You, on the other hand….”

“What is he talking about?” Alistair said, still eyeing his aunt.

Elleanor said, “He-”

“She’s a homicidal maniac who would sacrifice her own family for some abstraction of the greater good!” Saul said, finally laughing outright. “And I reiterate: at least I know I’m evil.”

Elleanor pried the billy club from Alistair’s hands and struck Saul across the face, knocking him out of his chair. His glass shattered on the floor, splattering the remaining blood over the hardwood.

And the King of the Ghouls kept laughing as he was beaten. “You really have no idea, do you?! She never told you? No, of course she didn’t, why on earth would she?!”

She struck him again.

Again.

Again.

Confusion and fear resonated in Alistair’s mind, amplified by that spark of violet Starlight. Why did that Star intrigue him so? He couldn’t possibly- no, no that wasn’t an option. He couldn’t afford to fall that far.
“But you never figured it out,” Saul said, black blood pouring out between his teeth. “Perhaps I’ve overestimated you after all.”

“What’s he talking about?” Alistair repeated, the words a dry croak.

“I have no idea,” Elleanor said.

“Bullshit you don’t,” Saul said with his bloody smile.

She raised the club again. Alistair caught her by the elbow before she could land the blow. “What. Is. He. Talking. About.”

She looked him in the eyes, a mix of outrage and guilt splattered on her face.

“TELL ME!” Alistair screamed. This day had been long and bloody, and these past few years equally so compounded with humiliation after humiliation- the last thing he needed now was his own family lying to him. She didn’t even flinch as he screamed right in her face. Even now the woman was strong.

“Who do you think told me where your family lived?” Saul said through a swollen face and broken teeth. “All those years ago, when you came back to your castle and found everyone dead by my people’s hands. How do you think I found it? It’s a well-kept secret, the location of Castle Albrecht. Or at least it was, before Elleanor Albrecht decided to let me in on it. I agreed, of course, because I was scouting a successor, but you weren’t even on my RADAR until Aunt Elleanor here pointed me in your direction. I didn’t tell her about my plan, if that helps… No, no, it really doesn’t help, does it? It’s still pretty bad.”

Alistair looked back to his aunt. “Is this true?”

And the mask dropped, shattering on the floor like an antique vase. Through her guilt and shame and anger, relief was plain to see on Elleanor’s true face. The face of a monster. “Yes.”

“WHY?!” Alistair bellowed.

“It was necessary to free you from them,” Elleanor said. “They were horrible.”

“They were my family! They were YOUR family!”

“Your father who beat you and locked you in the basement for the slightest infraction? Your mother who never said a kind word to you in your life when she wasn’t ignoring you? Your elder sister, who was so heartless in her treatment of you that it made my brother and I’s interactions as children look healthy? You call them family? You needed to be freed. Your father was keeping you for himself when you belonged at my school. We free other mage-children from their families so they can be where they truly belong, why on earth should we exempt ourselves from that rule?”

He grabbed her by the lapel and slammed her into the wall of the cabin. “And my little sister?! Did she deserve to die?!”

“She was weak,” Elleanor said flatly. “If she was meant to survive, she would have. But she didn’t. She had very little magic to her, as you’ll recall. You, though… You were always special. I couldn’t let you suffer under those fools a moment longer.”

“THAT WASN’T YOUR CHOICE TO MAKE!”

“Let go of me, boy,” Elleanor said.

“Excuse you?” Alistair said, flabbergasted at her gall.

“I said let go of me NOW!” Elleanor said. “You little ingrate! Never listening to me! Never thanking me for all that I’ve done for you! And now, even as I abide by your most foolish pipe dreams, you don’t appreciate me!? Unbelievable.” The truth, then. This was how she truly felt. How she’d always felt.

And in that moment, Alistair knew how he truly felt.

Alistair ripped the billy club from her hands, tossed it away, and struck her in the face. He shattered her nose, her jaw, removing teeth just as she’d done to the King of the Ghouls, just as his older sister had done to him. He pictured his sister below his fist, imagining the smug look on her face being permanently obliterated as he mutilated a once-attractive woman.

“Why are you doing this for them?” Elleanor choked out. “They didn’t deserve you.”

“You don’t deserve me either!” Alistair screamed.

From the corner of his eye he noticed a movement, and as he turned he found the King of the Ghouls summoning his Entropy. It formed a small bullet, and he aimed it-

Only for Elleanor to grab a gun from the holster on her hip and fire the round clean through Emory’s eye. His brains splattered across the back-wall of the cabin, black blood and gray viscera. His body hit the ground with a hollow thud on the floor.

Alistair looked down at his aunt.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But he was going to kill you. I couldn’t let anyone else hurt you.”
“I know,” Alistair said in a low voice.

And then he beat his aunt to death with his bare hands.

When it was over, there was nothing but another pile of brains on the floor, a damp red rag beneath his fists. He rested on his knees, and he looked up at the ceiling, his eyes barely registering any of the stimuli around him.

“Alistair,” Svetlanna said carefully.

His eyes jerked over to her. Svetlanna was looking at him no differently than she had before. At least that hadn’t changed.

Caroline came in then, and she retched. “What… What happened?”

“A traitor died trying to protect her secrets,” Alistair said. “This was a failure of a mission.”

“No it wasn’t,” Svetlanna said. “You avenged your parents.”

Alistair looked around, and supposed that was true. He had done what he’d first set out to do. But his remaining goal continued to elude him.

He looked up at the light of his red Star, and for the first time, it pumped an overwhelming dread through him. It led him here. Led him to this. Was this supposed to be his Destiny? Nothing more than a sordid family struggle with no true winners?

Unacceptable. He was meant for more than this. He would not let this defeat define him.

“I suppose now isn’t the best time,” Caroline said. “But we did find something of interest.”

“What?” Svetlanna asked.

“Tunnels. Every house in this village has access to them. And they all seem to lead to a hollow inside the mountain.”

Alistair’s eyes darted over to Saul’s body, and he shoved it out of the way. He dug his nails into the floorboards, looking for a catch.

There.

He lifted up, and he looked down into the abyss. It seemed to go on for miles and miles and miles. His Star drifted down, casting its red light over it, revealing a city of stone beneath the mountain, with veins branching out in every possible direction. They probably ran under the whole of the Rockies. His Star floated above it, like it belonged there, in this hole in the world. The purple Star of the Ghoul-King joined it, and the two thrummed side by side, two halves of a whole. Waiting to be made whole. This was his Destiny. He’d fulfilled his Destiny.

He found it lacking.

And Alistair laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

He’d been given this Destiny, and now he was being offered a new one. One that would let him fulfill his dream.

He hadn’t wanted to see it before, but the only way to overcome his weakness, his family’s weakness, was to look it in the face. So he stared down the hole for hours, laughing all the while, amidst the mutilated remains of his worst enemy and the woman who’d raised him.

It always plunged deeper, and there was always more work to do.

He supposed it made sense- saving magic was never going to be easy. It was always going to require sacrifice.

And that day, he’d made his first one.

The two Stars, red and violet, floated directly above him. He looked up into them and wept, knowing that one day soon, when he could no longer deny its inevitability, he would prove both Elleanor and Saul right. There were other avenues he could pursue first, and he would pursue them, but in the deepest recesses of his mind, he knew what he would have to do to save magic.

He had them put Saul’s corpse on ice for when they needed it.

He left Elleanor for the crows.