Sekhmet knew the way now. His skin crawled from the feel of the H’ris. He could tell from the way Oshay looked back at him that she could feel their presence, too. “Let’s go.”
The three of them walked for an hour before Sekhmet abruptly stopped. He felt so strange, like he was being watched. Out of the corner of his eye, he could almost catch a glimpse of memory. Sekhmet almost believed that if he stayed still long enough, his family would materialize in the trees around him—he felt that close to home right now. This must be the area where they had all once lived. He would never have recognized it with his eyes, but with his spirit…
“Is something wrong, Uncle?”
“No. Something is right for a change.” He looked around once more, slowly dragging his thoughts back to the here and now. He started walking again, Oshay and Kale right behind him. “Not all memories are bad ones, Oshay. Never forget that.”
The three of them followed the trail that led them out of the forest and into hilly countryside. Sekhmet was in the lead, keeping up a pace that seemed to become more frenetic. He stopped at the top of a hill. As Kale and Oshay came up beside him, they could see why. The valley below was littered with round huts, H’ris wandering in and out of them.
Oshay saw a smile spread across Sekhmet’s features—a smile that chilled her to the bone. It sort of reminded her of a grinning skull. She hoped that wasn’t a bad omen.
“Kale, Oshay. This is it. This is the H’ris valley. They may travel the countryside, murdering and destroying, but they always return to this place. SNAKE FANG STRIKE!” Sekhmet ran down into the valley, reigning venom down on the H’ris. “You revel in destruction? I will show you destruction!” Sekhmet used his swords together like an energy whip to blast the huts. By the time Kale and Oshay caught up to him, flames were everywhere.
A group of H’ris warriors rushed towards them, swords drawn. Oshay grabbed her naginata in one hand, her bullwhip in the other. She flicked the whip out, twining it around one warrior’s sword arm. She yanked him towards her, skewering him with her blade. Oshay spun and slammed the corpse into another H’ris. A weapon swung at her head. She ducked, spinning low to knock the warrior off his feet. Then she stabbed him before he could rise. Adrenaline was coursing through her. Feeling the pull of her wild nature, she watched with satisfaction as her hands transformed into sharp claws. She threw her naginata at a H’ris, the super sharp blade impaling him with ease. With inhuman speed, she quickly turned and sliced open the throat of the warrior behind her with her claw. The H’ris were slow, but relentless. For every one she killed, two more would take his place. They didn’t care if a thousand died as long as they got their target. Oshay quickly recovered her weapon just in time to block a potentially devastating blow from a descending sword.
Kale swung the Sword of Darkness at the hordes of oncoming warriors, cutting a swathe through their ranks. He sliced upwards and caught the blade of a H’ris just right. Their weapons were weak compared to his magically imbued nodatchi. The warrior’s blade shattered. With a look of surprise still on his face, the snake-man fell as Kale cut across his belly. He spun and kicked another one behind him. With his blade-studded gauntlet, he slashed a warrior next to him, then swiftly cut back with the sword he held in the other hand. Kale didn’t have time to stop and think. More H’ris warriors kept running towards him to replace the ones he killed. How many fighters did they have?
Sekhmet usually liked to face his opponent one-on-one, but he was not thinking clearly. His sure-kill blasts were wantonly destroying everything around him. He did not care if they fought him, only if they died. All he could see was blood—H’ris blood. Sekhmet wanted more of it. He wanted to fill the valley with it until they all drowned in its crimson waves. Maybe then he would feel something. He was obsessed with killing them, but each death did nothing to satisfy the emptiness inside him. Maybe if all of them were dead…
Kale got fed up with the H’ris. They were like vermin, over-running the valley! He held his sword before him. “BLACK LIGHTNING SLASH!” Black energy beams shot out from his nodatchi, scattering in different directions. The dark bolts fried the warriors they struck. Kale continued to slice at the lizard-men around him, alternating with blasts of black lightning until no more H’ris charged him. Exhausted, he looked over to see Oshay being crowded by a horde of warriors.
Oshay was starting to feel overwhelmed, like she was drowning in a sea of reptiles. The clanging of metal on metal echoed through the valley as she blocked thrust after thrust. She had no room to maneuver, no room to jump away. As they closed in on her, she felt a strange heat rising within her. A voice from nowhere startled her.
“Your heritage has given you another gift, one you never had a chance to develop in your first life. You are ready for it now. Use it.”
Thanatos? Oshay reached within and felt it building. Instinctively, she pushed the burning power outward in all directions. “VENOM FIRE!” Green flames burst from her, poisonous and hot. The H’ris, who had natural immunities to most poisons, were unprepared for the unusual and powerful ones contained in her explosion of flame. All the H’ris around were felled by its deadly strength. She dropped to one knee, sweat dripping from her face.
Kale ran to her side to help her up. “What was that?”
“A gift of my people, one I didn’t know I possessed.” She looked around for Sekhmet. Where was he? She could see the path of devastation he’d left behind—the bodies, the charred huts, the scorched earth. But where was he?
Sekhmet had somehow found himself near the women’s huts. His father had told him that the H’ris females and males lived in separate huts, only coming together to mate. The boy children stayed with the women until their manhood rituals. H’ris women were protective of their children, but they were not trained to fight. Sekhmet let loose a blast that set the huts ablaze. The H’ris women ran from their homes, children held tightly to their bodies. Sekhmet gave chase. For a moment he thought he’d lost them in the hills, but he could hear crying ahead. Caves. They were in the caves. Sekhmet entered one, stepping into the darkness. His eyes quickly adjusted. There, huddled by the back wall, was a large group of women. The children cowered behind them. Sekhmet raised his katanas, ready to strike them all down.
“S’k! You cannot do this!”
Sekhmet turned at the voice behind him. No! It could not be! K’t?! “How…?”
“It does not matter. It only matters that I am here. You cannot do this, S’k. Not for me, M’sa, mother, father, or even yourself.”
“They…they must all die. You know that as well as I. I…I have to do this. Can’t you see that?”
“If you do this thing, how will it be any different than when you killed all the village men, women, and children to avenge us? (see Poisoned Dreams, Sekhmet’s story in SW6: Ghost to Rest) That act of madness gave Talpa your soul. You have control of your own destiny now. Do not let their evil become your own. Do not loose your soul again.”
“What if Talpa and the H’ris destroyed everything decent in my life that gave me a reason to hold onto such an elusive dream as a soul? What if it is too late for me? At least I will have accomplished something with my sacrifice.” He steeled himself to do what must be done. Sekhmet had felt empty when he’d killed the H’ris warriors. He had expected some kind of satisfaction. Maybe finally finishing off the entire race would bring him relief, something.
“S’k, my brother. Do you think you need to destroy to feel? Is that what you learned from your service to Talpa? Only death and destruction can fulfill you? Mother and father must not have meant so much to you that you would forget everything they taught us about generosity and forgiveness. If you do this, I guarantee that you will feel something, but it will not be joy, it will not even be relief.”
“Uncle?”
He saw Kale and Oshay standing in the entranceway. Kale looked at him, expressionless. He was waiting for Sekhmet to kill the H’ris and be done with it. To Kale he was the Warrior of Venom—a destroyer, a killer. Sekhmet’s eyes then met Oshay’s. Even after he’d told her about the horrible things he had done in Talpa’s service, she still looked at him as if he were a legendary hero and beloved relative.
Which person’s perspective of him was the correct one? Time to decide. He could not be both. K’t was right. He would feel something if he killed defenseless women and children. He would feel sick. He would be turning himself back into the monster Talpa and the H’ris had made him. Sekhmet couldn’t be that again. Another path had to be open to him. The spectral K’t smiled in the shadows and faded away. Sekhmet turned towards the H’ris. “I will show you the mercy you have never shown others. You will live. But I swear to you now, I will be watching. If any of your kind ever go into human lands again, harm another human being again, I will return.” He leaned menacingly towards them, teeth bared, eyes wild with bloodlust. “And I will kill you all slowly and make cloaks from your children’s scalps.” He turned and walked away.
Kale spat at the ground. “You know they will teach their children to hate and kill humans. This will happen all over again someday. We should end this here.” Kale raised the Sword of Darkness, ready to exterminate them all. Sekhmet grabbed his hand.
“No.” Sekhmet’s voice was calm, but his eyes made Kale almost take a step back. Almost.
“But they will return--perhaps stronger than before! We can stop them now.”
“I said no. If they rise up again, I will be here to stop them.”
Kale reluctantly lowered his sword. This was Sekhmet’s quest—his call. “You are a fool, Sekhmet.”
“Yes. But I am a fool with a soul.”
Oshay put a comforting hand on his arm. Sekhmet covered it with his own. He felt a strange weigh lift itself from his chest. The three of them stood there for the longest time, watching the sun go down.
Sekhmet had wanted to fight the H’ris by himself. But maybe it was better this way. Being alone had given him too much time to dwell on his own thoughts, thoughts that always turned dark and ugly. He was…glad that Oshay had been there with him. Surprisingly, he found he was even pleased that Kale had stubbornly decided to accompany them. Perhaps these…feelings…feelings?…were not such a bad thing after all. Perhaps.
In the distance they could see a large group of armored warriors approaching. The Sentinels and Ronins had arrived. Sekhmet shook his head. Why was he not surprised?