TRUTH BOUND: A SHORT FANTASY STORY PART TWO

The sword bearer bent over the wolf and stuck its neck, opening a gash in its throat. The wolf gurgled and went still. The grievous injury didn't bleed instead wires bunched out and the smell of electric wiring filled the air. The Binder moaned on the ground, muttering gibberish.

“He is as good as dead.” the silent assassin said from the darkness. "Let us go.” He added.

“I will finish this. I do not like leaving anything unfinished, even if it is killing this one. Besides rebirth is ready and certain modifications have been made to bring a better breed this time.” The sword bearer replied.

“We came because we thought he would lead us to where the remaining old ones are hiding but all we have is a boot print. Let us go before his link alerts the constabulary. The bishop will not like our work to come to the notice of the court.” The other assassin replied.

The sword bearer shook his head and moved towards the groaning Binder. He raised his sword and suddenly a black ball of fur launched into him out of thin air and bit into his sword hand. He dropped the sword in shock and jumped back. He didn’t scream or behave like he had been bitten by sharp canines.

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The black wolf that had attacked him landed on silent paws and circled around the groaning binder and the black sword that had fallen on the ground with its attack, making it difficult for the sword bearer to finish his grisly work. The sword bearer stared at his mangled hand and turned to his partner in irritation.

“I told you to leave him alone. Now we have to fight not one but several old ones. I loved this body, you know.” The assassin in the shadows said as he stepped into the light. “I am in the light, please show yourselves.” He added.

Four persons stepped into the clearing. They were slim and tall men; their ebony skin gleamed in the dark. They had hoods covering their heads but their bodies were nude except for the loincloth that wrapped their middle. They all looked funny with the laced up boots they had on. What even made it weirder was that each one of them had a long blade in hand – theirs too was as black as night like the one lying on the ground beside the Binder.

The four men spread apart and the one in the middle stepped forward. He bent over the Binder and stared at his face. His face was hidden in the hood so no one could see his expression.

Source
“You have gotten to my generation, ten years too late.” The man said, still staring at the groaning Binder.

“We are not as fast at rebirth as you are at procreation, old one.” The sword bearer answered back in anger. His partner placed his hand on his shoulder and drew him back.

“He is our problem. I do not see the need for you to be involved. We do not want war on our hands. The old concord still stands.” He said, spreading both hands apart as if giving benediction.

“Two weeks ago, two men were killed while they hunted, their totems broken and their bodies taken away to be embalmed and turned into stone for that despicable act you call ancestor worship. They were my friends. Where was this concord you speak of then?” the hooded man asked.

“The god you worshipped has been found and we wage war with him as we speak. Our ships have located your heaven and the place where your souls sleep is being assailed. Soon you will have no afterlife, what will you have left?” the sword bearer spat, baring his teeth in an angry growl.

The hooded men turned to each other and hands holding steel tightened. The tension in the stretched taut as eyes watched hands.

The swordbearer's partner turned on him and punched him in the face. The sword bearer staggered back, shock on his face;

“You will keep your mouth shut and you will report yourself to your Runner for the appropriate punishment once we get back to the cathedral.” He said, his demeanour unchanged despite the fact that his knuckles were bruised and blood bled to the ground.

Several totem animals appeared into the gathering, standing side by side with their totem holder. One was a lion, another was a leopard and the third was an hyena. The huge black wolf still stood guarding the Binder and the black sword on the ground.

The hooded man stood up from his squat.

“I suggest you take your leave now. The men you sent for have been intercepted at the edge of the forest. If you leave, you may see tomorrow’s moon.” He said.

“I am sorry but I cannot leave him alive or leave his cybo-totem for you to study.” The unarmed assassin replied.

“Then so be it. Till death” the hooded old one replied and drew out his black sword.

The assassin drew out no sword; he simply smiled and spread his hands. A blue flame appeared on his fingers and he stood watching calmly as the hooded man rushed at him with amazing speed.

He had always wondered why the old ones seemed to age slower, were stronger and faster than them even without the assistance of the technology they had access to. Maybe he will find out today, he thought as he joined his hands together and the blue flames coalesced into an orange inferno which he sent towards his assailant.

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He expected the man to dodge the fire and attack from the side but his eyes widened as the man went through the flames unscathed and his black blade thrust through his stomach, severed his spine and came out of his back.

He grabbed the man as his legs gave way beneath the heaviness of death

“What are you?” he asked, as blood spluttered out of his lips.

“What am i? Do you ask a pig, what are you, before you take it to slaughter? Do you beg a tree for its name before you pluck its fruits? You think you own the world but even we who were here before you cannot lay claim to such powers. When you return again, I want you to speculate on this. You will find the truth in the lie, assassin.” The hooded man said.

The assassin fell on the forest floor. He laid there and heard as the other men chopped his partner, the swordbearer to pieces. He laid there and wondered at the world. They had not exchanged names. What is my name? What am i? He thought. He looked at the waving treetops, then a shadow blocked his view. It was the wolf– an old one – a live one not a machine. It stared at him then it bent down suddenly and he knew no more.

The Binder stared up and saw several eyes staring at him. He could feel his heart pound fast with fear and the pain of his broken bond seemed muted to a dull throb. He didn’t know how this was possible. Those who have had their bonds broken with their bonded cybo-totems say the pain was worse than regeneration. He looked around and saw the bodies of the two assassins as well as his wolf. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“You seek something here.” The man who had killed the pyro-assassin asked.

He opened his eyes and looked at him. The man removed his hood and he gasped in shock. The man was him or what he would become in some few years time.

“There are no crypts or cities of the dead where the old ones are preserved, are there?” he asked, surprised at the calmness he felt within.

“The only truth is the word ‘old ones’. Even that is a truth hidden inside a lie.” The old one replied.

“You are not immortal gods?” the Binder asked.

“We are men. We are called the old ones because we were here before you. We created you.” The man replied.

“I don’t understand. You are gods to be worshipped. That is what the canon says. You are all dead except for the messengers sent from the city of the dead to speak to us…” the Binder replied.

“You have been deceived. You were created by scientists when the world was coming to its third end. You were supposed to carry on after we were gone but somehow we survived and you refused to step down from the thrones we had given to you.” The man replied.

“So what am i?” the Binder asked.

“You are a clone of me. The fourth clone as seen by the marks on your palm. You are an imitation of me – a weak copy.” The man replied.

The Binder looked at him from the ground – truth or death. I have found truth and it is as bitter as they said it will be.

“The oracle said I will kill my father…”* he said as he struggled to sit up.

“You are welcome to try but I doubt if your oracle is as genuine as mine. My oracle said I will remake the world twice.” The man replied smiling.

“Come… let us meet you and maybe you will understand what you are.” He added, stretching his hand to grab him from the ground.

The men parted a beautiful woman dressed in a white robe stepped into their midst. The men bowed but she ignored them and walked to the Binder. She bent over him and smiled

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"How does truth feel, Benard?" She asked.
The Binder's eyes widened in surprise. He looked from the woman to the men.

"You knew all this time. That is why you never discouraged me. You knew they were alive and that the canon was a lie. Why didn't you say so instead of making me go through all this?" He asked, angry.

"We love lies. It tends to give us comfort and security. You would not have believed me. It is better this way." She replied, then she turned to the men and nodded.

"Where are you taking me to?" The Binder asked as two men came and lifted him to his feet.

"To truth. We are going to break you then remake you. You are going to end the world again." The woman replied.

The End.

I hope you enjoyed it. This is my first try at fantasy. I would love your comments.

You can read the first part here

Thanks for stopping by

peace.