Exousia - The Patron Saints of the Damned -Book II

When they reached the far side of the mountain, Exousia noticed a collection of eleven loyalists clad in steel armor that was identical also to her own. Unlike her with her javelin, however, they only had blunt weapons like war-hammers, staffs, shields, and clubs. They were standing around chatting, and two seemed to have been wrestling. Each of them stood at attention when they saw Michael and then regarded their mortal guest with friendly glances.

Exousia glared back, taking several off-guard.

“Easy, this is your team,” Michael said, his face not making any sort of sign that he was joking.

“My what?” Exousia said, her tone dry.

“Your team,” Michael repeated. “Our training is not going to consist of the basic sorts of drills that your teacher has already put you through. No, you need to learn in practice how to inspire loyalty in others and to use that strength against your enemy.”

“Ammon?” Exousia asked, feeling confused about how this lesson would help him in a one-on-one challenge.

“Not quite yet,” Michael said and pointed to the wall of a cliff where an enormous set of chained iron doors blocked off an old mining tunnel. There were deep claw marks in the rock around the door, where something had clearly been dragged into the cave by force. “The Hydra is a beast created by the perverse habits of the Greek deities of old before … demons … eliminated them from existence.”

Exousia knew from experience that there were otherworldly creatures still left on the Earth, and even the occasional god partying in bars and instead of incurring the demons’ wrath. But a monster of the proportion that he was talking about to still exist …

“Like the good old days, right?” These words came from an excitable looking female loyalist with short curly red hair, matching red wings, and a war-hammer. Of all the loyalists here, she looked the most excited, though the others still seemed happy about the drill. What was this, loyalist day camp?

“It’ll be interesting with a human tagging along.” This commentary came from a bald loyalist with unnatural golden skin, a staff, and a stupid looking smile.

Exousia immediately disliked him more than the others.

“You have the Creator’s Champion with you,” Michael corrected sharply. He then walked to Exousia, took her javelin, and smashed the end into a stone so that the point became a misshapen piece of dull metal. He then returned it.

Exousia felt a spark of anger, but she’d noted that none of the loyalists had sharp weapons either. So she considered that maybe there was a reason.

Michael seemed to notice this personal restraint and nodded his approval. “You should be aware that the Hydra’s saliva and blood are poisonous to the touch. Which means no sharp weapons or blades. Also, its twelve heads each have a regenerative ability. Cut one off, and it will simply grow back. This is the reason you will be fighting alongside eleven others—each of you dealing with a head and protecting those around you. Should you fail to carry your weight or trust in your allies, the Hydra will know, and will press the advantage. Your collective job is to subdue the monster.”

“Lord Archangel, how will we keep the child safe?” asked the golden skinned loyalist from before, with a bit of mocking tone in his voice.

“You’ll have to keep yourself safe from me if you’re not careful, you patronizing twit,” Exousia said, pointing the misshapen end of her metal staff at the loyalist. But her threat fell on unconcerned ears.

Michael continued, pretending not to notice their bickering. “The Hydra has been locked in a cave without the sun to warm its blood or fresh prey with which to fully gather its strength. So long as you all attack as a unit and demonstrate basic teamwork, the champion will be fine. Paya, you’re in charge of this first mission so you can teach her the fundamentals of leading a unit. Do so efficiently because she will be in charge of the next mission.”

The red-haired loyalist named Paya nodded with a smile.

Michael led them to the entrance of the cave, unlocked a mechanism in the door, and began to unwrap the massive chains. “I will be locking the doors behind you and leaving a guard. Knock when your mission is completed.” Once it was open, he watched them enter one by one, and then shut the door behind them.

Exousia could barely see anything for how dark the tunnel was with the door shut. What little she saw came from a branch of demon magic that they had slowly adapted to see in Hell. Of course, without having had centuries in darkness to train herself in the art, she wasn’t all that skilled in the magic. For now, her ‘seeing’ was more like a sixth sense that gave passive awareness of the shape of the tunnel around her. Dufaii had estimated a few more years before she would be able to fully see in total darkness. Perhaps this really would be a useful exercise.

To her disdain, one of the loyalists ignited a torch, blinding her and disrupting her attempt at practicing the demon magic. It took Exousia a moment of squeezing her eyes shut and fighting a sharp pressure behind her eyes to see the inside of the cave. She first noticed that there were more claw marks, which ran along the stone tunnel walls. There were several of these tunnels to choose from, and they ran in several directions. More unlit torches were mounted on each of these.

The group set off down the maze of tunnels. True to her position in the group, Exousia began the journey standing next to Paya, at the front. The loyalist just behind them with a torch continued to light every mounted tunnel light as they passed. And as more were lit, the sheer number of tunnels made the mountain seem mostly hollow.

Paya began her lecture immediately. “Okay, the first thing you need to remember is that fighting as a unit is a lot different from fighting by yourself. You need visibility if you don’t want to end up cutting your own soldiers down. These torches will help us see one another, the terrain we’re fighting on, and any potential threats. It will also help us to find our way back.”

Exousia replied with a dry tone, “It will also tell the Hydra exactly where we are. We lose our stealth advantage and leave ourselves vulnerable to the monster. Additionally, we wouldn’t need light if your soldiers had spent any time developing the ability to see in the dark … or the basic ability not to get lost in a cave. I’m fairly certain that cave crickets are capable enough to manage that.”

Paya wrinkled her face and looked like she was going to say something. But then just rolled her eyes and led them deeper into the cave. She and the loyalists began to excitedly chatter nonsense about the times they’d faced the Hydra in the past. Apparently, this was the sort of thing that loyalists did while demons had been busy slaying actual gods and monsters.

The thought of it put low-burning anger, like a hot coal, in the pit of Exousia’s stomach. She followed in brooding silence, determining what the best way to deal with the monster would be if this exercise were done alone and not as a joke. And the more she thought about it, the more the idea of actually learning something appealed to her. But to accomplish that, the first thing she would need to do was lose the loyalists.

So, Exousia began to hang back, behind the rest of them, and to gradually dim the psychic energy she emitted. At first, the loyalists would pay her an occasional glance to make sure that she was still there. But after the dozenth or so time that they looked back at her scowling, they stopped.

It was at this point that Exousia fell behind, into the shadows. If these clowns were not going to take this seriously, then there was no reason to have them around except as bait. She would use her ‘team’ to pass this test, not by learning the strength of loyalty but by proving that self-reliance was a far higher power. If they had any sense, they would be grateful for being shown just how vulnerable their blind loyalty left them to betrayal.

Exousia stopped to remove the loud and cumbersome armor she’d been given, dropped it gently onto the ground, and pulled her rubber flip-flops out of her jacket pockets. She donned the shoes and jacket, zipped the latter all the way up, and pulled the hood over her head. Once ready, she followed behind the loyalists for about a half-hour while nothing happened.

As Exousia followed, she stayed to one of the adjacent tunnel passages that had not been directly lit by the torches. She knew that any worthwhile predator would attack from behind. If legends about the Hydra were anything to go by, it would not disappoint.

It was another fifteen minutes before she heard a tapping sound from an adjacent tunnel. The tapping sound became louder, so she fell further back into the darkness to avoid being caught from behind. Eventually, she spotted a massive dark form crawl down through a hole in the tunnel ceiling.

The creature moved slowly toward the loyalists, now making not a sound as it crawled on its four legs. Its body was about twenty feet long, and each of its heads added another ten feet. These necks were not thin and velvety like she had imagined they might be, but instead, they rippled with muscles like a python’s body. The surface of its flesh was covered in black scales that looked somehow wet—like a fish. Its claws and teeth were eerily similar to one another—both retractable and more like thick needles than any sort of dragon claw or tooth.

Exousia wondered if she had made the right decision in attacking alone. But when she imagined herself fighting alongside those intolerable loyalists, her concerns ceased. She watched the monster and planned how she would take it out. According to legend, the half-god Hercules had cut off each head and cauterized the neck before the head could regrow. Then, he’d placed a giant rock on the monster’s last remaining head. And though legends were always questionable, the strategy seemed sound enough. The problem was that that hero had the advantage of godlike strength.

Exousia was stronger than any human, but she knew she would not be able to lift a boulder. She looked down at the bulbous end of the javelin. Instead of cutting off the heads, she could use the weapon to crush the bone and leave the monster unconscious or brain-dead. It was the same sort of weapon point-striking that she’d been taught by Dufaii for quickly disabling demons and angels.

She reached into the pockets she’d sewn into the inside of her jacket and pulled out two cloth baggies of the same variety her teacher always carried around, containing dried powders that she had made alongside him. When the contents of these two particular bags were mixed, they would create a low-heat fire that would expand quickly, sort of like a flare. Low damage, lots of light. She opened the tops of the baggies and placed each in a single hand, careful to keep the contents from leaking out.

Keeping low and silent, Exousia moved to gain distance until she saw a long black tail only five feet away. Without waiting for her brain to stop her, she sprinted towards the front of the creature.

The Hydra turned, having likely heard her footsteps. It bared its needle teeth with all twelve heads, as well as its claws.

Exousia threw both open baggies and created a yellow ceiling of flames.

The disoriented Hydra writhed and attacked aimlessly at the air.

Exousia waited until the first head was within reach and then struck with a loose arm so that the piece of metal became like a bullwhip. It hit the monster’s first head with a resounding crack that caused the entire neck to collapse.

The rest of the Hydra countered with a strike with their front leg.

Exousia repeated the whip-like strike and broke off a claw from it.

The Hydra hissed with pain and pulled away. But then, all eleven remaining heads redirected themselves so they were facing him. They attacked as one through the smoke, coming from every side and angle.

Exousia struggled to keep up and do anything but dodge and block. She wondered how the heads could possibly see her in the flames and smoke. She then noticed something peculiar that answered her question.

One of the heads had lowered itself to the ground, unnoticed in the dim light. It was watching and seemed to be providing the sensory information being used by the others. It stayed out of attack range, nuzzled safely between the Hydra’s front two legs.

Exousia realized that this plan of attack had been a mistake. She pulled another two baggies of the same powders, tossed them at the monster’s center, and sprinted toward a dark tunnel. She sensed it immediately give chase.

Had the Hydra not been limping on its broken claw, with an unconscious head dragging behind, that would have been the end.

But Exousia managed to run just a bit faster than it was able in its wounded state, adrenaline pumping through her body. She ran deeper into the mountain, getting further from the torches. Soon, the light was gone, and she had to rely entirely on her demon senses. Though she could not see in any amount of detail, she knew the necessary features of the tunnel—the surfaces, the stalagmites and puddles of water to avoid, and the position of the monster.

As she ran, Exousia sensed a narrow cavern that was lined with mud. She dropped her javelin and dove, sliding in about fifteen feet with a presumably open maw directly behind her. Her hands struck stone a little too abruptly, jarring her wrists and cutting her palms. She winced and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for it to grab her by the heel and drag her out.

But nothing happened; the small cavern was deep enough that the Hydra’s torso had been caught, and she was just barely out of reach of its heads. It couldn’t reach her. Still, it gnashed its teeth, snarled, and clawed at the rock in a vain attempt.

Exousia let out a heavy breath and panted for about a minute. Then she felt around the tiny tunnel with her arms and legs for an exit. The only thing she discovered was that there was no way out. She was stuck with a monster’s head and entire body sealing the only exit. She thought about using another type of fire, but that seemed like a sorry idea in her entrapped state. So, she sat and waited.

Meanwhile, the Hydra wriggled one of its heads as far into the tunnel as it would go. It didn’t give up when it couldn’t reach her, though. It just kept on … for an hour and then another. It did eventually stop thrashing and just settled its head on the ground. There it waited patiently. After all, it had been here for thousands of years and probably had patience in abundant supply.

It was then that Exousia heard her name shouted deeper in the cave. She almost screamed back because … well, she realized that she was terrified … but pride kept her from actually calling out. She would not be found like this by those clowns and certainly wouldn’t allow herself to be indebted to their help. In fact, she was quite sure that she’d rather die than let that happen.

She noticed that, oddly enough, the Hydra also began to emit an energy of fear and a smell of adrenaline. It was afraid of them. This made sense, she supposed, after all those years of it being used as a training monster.

It occurred to Exousia that a demon would find a way to use that fear to their advantage. And since she couldn’t manipulate a non-speaking creature quite like a djinn would a human, the use of her psychic abilities was an option. The difficulty was in lack of practice. Demon magics used to enhance fears and other emotions were even more complicated than seeing in the dark. They were tremendously dangerous, as the target’s thoughts could spill into one’s own and create a disastrous blend of both beings’ minds, thoughts, and identities. Additionally, as Dufaii had been more of a killer than a manipulator, it wasn’t something that he’d emphasized much in his teachings … nor had it been something that Exousia had really wanted to learn.

On the other hand, Exousia thought, she had to do something to escape. And this seemed like the only option. So she looked into the darkness until he felt a rush of energy that told her that her eyes had met with those of the monster.