Hello, readers! Empress Imperia back again! So soon, but I finished this chapter faster than I expected. Long story short, this is my biggest project yet, so please do not flame on me. For those of you who have read my previous fan-fiction Temple of Heroes, you can treat this as a sequel.
Finally, 'Abode of Snow' is the literal meaning for Himalayas.
Fifteen years ago…
A dark figure stalked through the tunnels of the cave network that spread through the interior of the biggest mountain in the world, silent as the darkness and swift as the wind, hunting the smaller creatures that had chosen to flee rather than fight. It found them, smelled their sweat, blood and fear, heard their panting, then their screams as it cut through them like a knife through butter.
Its flesh was covered in brownish black fur, and covered in countless scars. Its limbs had been cut, bruised and even broken so many times that the muscles that were visible even through the brown fur looked grotesque rather than rippled, telling the story of a retired wrestler rather than a veteran warrior. Its feet, almost as large at the puddles of blood which they stepped on, trudged soundlessly across the stone floor. Its hands, bigger than the heads which they crushed like raw eggs, were clawed and half curled into fists as the figure chased after the small creatures covered in useless metal plates, wielding small weapons that nicked rather than sliced the figure's flesh.
On its chest and back was a collage of wounds, old and new. Tiny grey lines and small chunks of fur cut away by knife blades ranging from small throwing knives to massive broadswords. Bruises and puncture wounds from maces, spiked and blunt, lances, bladed and pointed, arrows, some which were set on fire. Burns from fires not originating from projectiles, attempts by old enemies to draw it out of hiding, all attempts ending with the same result.
Terror. A swift strike. Death.
The blood on its dark fur was not from old wounds. It fresh and shining, dripping and spattered, bright red against dark brown. As the figure strode through the tunnel, slaughtering more figures clad in metal, its ears ringing with their screams, its black claws obscured in bits of flesh and bone, more red was added to the brown. It didn't care. It didn't care that after the slaughter began fifteen minutes ago, the blood was finally beginning to dry.
Some of the creatures it killed with a well thrown boulder as they dropped their blades and tried to run. Others it cornered then killed with teeth and claw. Some ran. Some fought. But they all died.
Every single one of them would die before the sun rose.
Always the same slaughter.
Always the same ending.
Our soldiers are under attack.
Request help immediately.
Hurry.
It's coming.
Commander Shan.
The writing was erratic, scrawled nearly indecipherably across the small scroll, as if the writer had been in a hurry, which considering the contents of the message seemed highly likely.
Monkey clutched the message to his chest as the small supply crate he had hidden himself in jostled slightly. A batch of shining dark red apples came loose from a sack and cascaded onto Monkey's head. The teenaged primate barely winced, deep in terrified thought. He let them bounce off his head, roll down his body and bruise themselves on the base of the crate.
All late afternoon and through the night, Monkey hid inside the small crate, stored with several others inside a small wooden cart. Said cart was one of two being pulled by members of the fifty-strong group of imperial soldiers currently traveling through the Tibetan section of the Himalayas.
This particular cart was being pulled by Zan, an old friend of Commander Shan's back from when he had first enlisted in the army. Though he had only met the man a couple of times, Monkey remembered what he looked like, a portly javan rhinoceros with a cracked horn and massive biceps from swinging his giant hammer since he was sixteen years old. Even now, in the middle of his worry and terror, Monkey could imagine Zan's muscles rippling as he pulled the cart like it was carrying pillows rather than food and weapons. Through the thick snow and rocky terrain the fifty soldiers and one stowaway traveled, with nothing for young Monkey to do but worry, the fear and concern aching inside him. They should have reached the small army camp by now, but the fierce snowstorm, which by now was starting to lessen, had delayed the journey by several hours.
Monkey shivered against the immense cold as he glanced through a tiny hole in the crate and caught a glimpse of the full moon, even through the blizzard that still raged. Walking alongside the cart was a soldier Monkey didn't know, a gorilla perfectly protected against the cold by his shaggy bluish-black fur. Monkey quickly moved away from the hole when the gorilla glanced in the cart's direction. He held his breath, but the cart continued to move.
Good. Monkey hadn't been discovered yet.
The young primate's stomach grumbled, but it was some time before he risked grabbing one of the red apples rolling about on the bottom of the crate. He chewed as slowly and quietly as possible, not wanting to risk alerting any of the nearby soldiers of his presence.
The snow continued to rage outside, loud even through the thick wooden sides of the crate.
The apple juice that gently oozed from the bite marks was freezing cold. So cold that Monkey believed that if he set the apple down after finishing it, the core would freeze solid. It had happened before. Before departing for the Himalayas, Commander Shan had shown Monkey an apple core that had frozen solid two minutes after he had eaten it. Monkey had laughed when Shan told him the funnier than expected story behind the freezing of the apple, even when his heart ached that he would have to leave for so long, one year to be exact. When he had voiced his sadness, Shan had ruffled the fur between his son's ears and with a warm smile told him that if the mission to destroy the remnants of the warlord Jong's army was successful, he could be back before that time.
And so Monkey had sadly watched alongside his mother and older brother as Commander Shan and his three hundred men gathered their supplies and began their journey to the base of the highest mountain.
Five days after their departure, a messenger hawk had arrived at the small lakeside village where Monkey and his family were residing with a scroll that stated that they had reached their destination, a large network of caves and tunnels, and were about to begin to pitch tents. The commander of Zan's unit had been the first to receive the message, and at Zan's request had the message passed on to Monkey's family to assure them that their beloved father and husband was safe.
Another day later, they had received another message that the army camp had been fully pitched, and plans for attack were well underway.
A seventh day later, the message that Monkey currently held tightly in his hands had arrived, carried by the same hawk, this time bloodied and disheveled.
Having been playing checkers with Zan at the time of the message's arrival, Monkey hadn't been aware of what was going on until a soldier had interrupted their game and insisted that Zan return to their unit as soon as possible. Having sensed that something was wrong, Monkey had followed them back to the army camp stationed next to the village, and after sneaking into the commander's office and finding the message, realized that something horrible had happened to his father.
The second he had finished reading the contents of the message, Monkey had rushed straight to Zan and demanded to go with them. Zan had of course refused, stating that whatever was going on was far too dangerous for a thirteen year old boy. And so Monkey had sneaked inside the closest crate, which was then carried to the nearest cart, and two minutes after that the journey to aid Shan's unit as well as find out what was happened had begun.
Now, as Monkey tightening his grip on the urgent message like a vice, he wished he had trusted his instincts. He wished he had been more insistent that his father stay. Of course it was too late to do anything now. Monkey could only hope that the unit he was traveling with was not already too late.
"Sir! I see it!"
Monkey was jolted from his thoughts by the sound of a soldier calling out to the commander, having to shout through the snowstorm.
"Very good." He heard the gruff voice of the boar who commanded the unit. "Keep moving, men, and keep an eye out for trouble!"
"Can barely open our eyes at all with this godforsaken storm." Monkey heard Zan mutter under his breath.
"Can you see if there is any combat?" The commander called after a few moments.
"I don't see any combat, sir!" Zan yelled over the blizzard. "In fact, it looks deserted!"
Monkey tried to see the camp for himself through the tiny hole in the crate, but saw nothing but snow and rock.
After a few minutes, the cart changed direction as the rocky path the unit was traveling along curved, and then Monkey could see the camp, which was so far away that the tents were mere black specks against the snowy surface of the mountain. Zan had been right. No fighting could be seen. In fact, he could see no life amongst the dark tents.
His fear increased tenfold.
Around him, he heard metallic sounds as the soldiers readied their weapons: swords, maces, axes, the works. Some checked and loaded their crossbows. Others strapped on a deadly variety of knives of all sizes. If who or whatever was still there, then fighting would almost certainly occur. Monkey almost regretted his reckless decision to stow away, but then remembered the fearful scrawling of his father's message.
"Will we need the fire lances?" A soldier Monkey couldn't see asked.
"They would be next to useless in this weather." The commander replied. "Besides, in these circumstances hand to hand combat will be the most likely outcome. Now quiet, everyone. We're almost there."
Indeed, the deserted camp through the crate hole was growing steadily larger, to the point where Monkey could make out the shapes of the tents. He felt a jolt of fear when he saw tears in the tents that looked like claw marks.
"Right, everyone. We're going in."
The second the cart halted, Monkey quickly climbed out the crate. With the speed and agility of his species, he leapt behind a rock and hid. Shivering despite the dark red coat he wore, Monkey peeked over the rock and watched as Zan and his unit gripped their weapons tightly and stepped into the camp, which Monkey now saw was a ruin. The claw marks in the tents looked even larger up close, and some tents had been ripped apart completely. Several campfires feebly burned, the embers glowing orange in the dark white. Dotted across the white snow were weapons and the remains of weapons.
There were no signs of the soldiers whatsoever.
"Where is everyone?" The gorilla soldier whispered, voicing the question that bounced around young Monkey's head. His voice was laced with fear and suspicion.
"Hmmm…" Monkey saw the boar commander's eyes narrow as he began to think. "If there was an attack, the smartest thing for the unit to do was to retreat to the cave network." The soldiers looked up at the cliff that overlooked the camp. The mouth of a cave could barely be seen at the top.
"Should we investigate, sir?" Zan asked, gripping his hammer tightly.
"Yes. If there are survivors, that's where they will be." Replied the commander. "Everyone, move out!"
Monkey waited until they were some distance away before following them.
The small path stretching up the side of the mountain up to the caves wasn't hard to find. Soon enough the seven men (including the commander and Zan) chosen to make the treacherous journey up the cliff to investigate were making their way up said path, their heavy armor threatening to drain their stamina before they even made it half way.
Monkey followed quietly ten feet behind them, keeping as far from the edge as possible, all the while thinking of the time he and his brother had spent training with blunt wooden weapons under their father's caring and intelligent eye. The wooden dao swords Monkey had played with, the water meteor hammer he'd sucked at swinging, the staff he'd excelled at, experiences so wonderful that they brought young Monkey some small amount of comfort as he fought against the fierce winds of the blizzard that still sought to blow him off the side of the mountain.
Other than that, the trek up to the cave felt like a lifetime. Up ahead, the commander reached the cave mouth, let out an uncharacteristic cry of horror and backed up to the very edge of the cliff.
"Watch it!" Zan yelled as he grabbed the commander by the chest plate and yanked him forward before he went over. The commander didn't answer.
One by one, the soldiers reached the top and saw something that Monkey didn't.
"Stay close!" The commander ordered. "Keep your weapons handy!"
Even Zan seemed hesitant as the group of soldiers entered the cave and disappeared from Monkey's view.
Monkey waited a few seconds, walked up to the top… and into a scene from a horror story.
He clapped a hand over his mouth as he saw what lay strewn on the ledge in front of the cave mouth: the bodies of over fifteen men. It looked nothing like the battlefields Monkey had seen in pictures. The smell hit him as the wind blew, and he fought the urge to throw up. He heard a retching noise from somewhere in the cave as one of the soldiers had much less success.
The stone ledge was splattered with blood, almost black against grey. The bodies the blood had come from lay torn, broken, dismembered, beheaded and mutilated in every possible way Monkey knew. Monkey saw one that had been ripped apart at the waist, the lower half nowhere to be seen. In this storm, flies where absent, but the deceased had begun to stink.
Monkey took a step backwards and whimpered. He had been expecting his father to be in the middle of a battle against mountain bandits… not this.
For a moment, Monkey stared at the dead, searching for a face he knew. Someone not here amongst the bodies.
"Dad…" He whispered, and turned his gaze to the cave mouth. He had to find his father.
He quickly walked forward when a terrifying thought stopped him in his tracks.
What if the thing that did this was still here?
Thing? He frowned at the thought. Why not things? Or bandits? Or enemy soldiers? Yet even at his young age, Monkey knew that no bandits or soldier could butcher like this. A monster was most likely.
A monster that may have killed my father.
It was this thought that sent Monkey hurtling into the cave, into the metaphorical belly of the beast.
Deep in the network of caves inside the mountain, Monkey found Captain Shan.
He hadn't been mutilated like the others which covered the floor of the numerous tunnels Monkey had followed to find him, other than the enormous stalactite that had been shoved through his chest, punching a hole probably like the one currently sending a horrible ache through Monkey's body.
Monkey fell on his knees before his father and began to cry.
It was the only sound in the dark, cold tunnel.
He had always thought that his father, so brave, so strong, so awesome with a pole staff, was indestructible. That he could never be taken from them.
But now, as he gazed at his father through his thick tears, Monkey knew better.
Little more than a week ago, Shan had promised to be back to his family in a year. He'd said that he was the strongest man alive.
"Liar…" Monkey whispered, then immediately felt ashamed of himself. His father couldn't possibly have known what had awaited him in this snowy white hell.
Still crying, he took off his coat and used it to wipe the blood from his father's face. He then grabbed his father's hand, never wanting to leave his side again. It felt cold to the touch.
Monkey shifted himself so he was now sitting right next to his father.
"Why did you leave?" He asked softly. "I pleaded with you not to go. Why did you leave?"
His father didn't answer.
Monkey felt his strength leave him. His head fell to the side and ended up resting on his father's still shoulder. As Monkey sat there, tears stinging his eyes, thinking about how his mother and brother would be just as heartbroken as he was feeling right now, his eyes fell on the dao sword still clutched in his father's other hand. It was stained red with blood, with some strange dark colored bits on the tip. On closer inspection, Monkey realized that it was hair. Dark brown, almost black. It didn't look like it had come from any kind of animal Monkey had met before.
"You wounded it." Monkey looked up at his father with a tiny smile. "You fought it, and wounded it. Well done, dad. Well done…"
Monkey didn't move from that spot, didn't loosen his grip on his father's hand, not even when Zan found them.
"Monkey! What are you doing here?" His eyes widened in unpleasant surprise when he found the young primate. Surprise turned to shock when he saw his friend lying dead next to his boy, and then Zan was kneeling down, putting a hand on Monkey's shoulder.
"I'm so sorry, Monkey." He said. He glanced at Shan for a moment, sighed sadly, then turned back to Monkey.
Monkey raised his free hand to wipe his eyes.
"How did you get here?" Zan asked after a moment of silence.
"I stowed away in a cart." Monkey mumbled. "I'm sorry I disobeyed you."
"Don't worry, kid. You're not in trouble."
"Where are the other soldiers?"
"They're heading back outside. No survivors."
"Oh."
Zan looked very regretful as he gently prized Monkey's and Shan's hands apart.
"I'm sorry, but we have to go."
Suddenly Monkey was angry. He fought furiously but was unable to escape Zan's grasp as he pulled him away from his father.
"No! I'm not leaving him!"
"We're not going to just abandon him here, I promise." Zan assured him. "We will come back to take care of him. But right now we have to regroup with the others."
Monkey continued to struggle, but eventually realized that it was hopeless. Zan kept a firm grip on his arm even as he relaxed.
"Come on." Zan said. "Let's go."
Monkey looked back at his father one last time before making his way down the corridor with Zan.
Ten steps down, Zan froze so abruptly that Monkey collided with his leg.
"Ow! What?"
"It's still here." Zan growled.
Monkey followed his gaze.
His heart missed a beat when he saw the dark figure standing at the far end of the tunnel.
Unbelievably huge, impossibly tall, covered in dark fur splattered in blood. A long slit on its chest looked like it had been cut by a dao sword.
Its footsteps echoed in the confined space as it approached them.
"RUN!" Zan roared as he pulled out a crossbow and fired. Monkey obeyed at once, didn't see whether or not the arrow hit.
He sprinted down the tunnel as fast as his legs and arms could carry him, and heard a furious huffing as Zan ran not too far behind. He could also hear the monster pursuing them, gaining on them no matter how much they twisted and turned in the endless labyrinth of tunnels. At some point in the chase Zan caught up to Monkey, scooped him up like a doll and carried him under one arm as he ran.
They reached another corner, found the bodies of five of the search party lying torn up in the middle of the floor, the commander among them. Zan rushed past them with a curse that Monkey had never heard before.
"Do you even know where you're going?" Monkey cried.
"No!" Zan merely replied.
A second later, they round another corner and saw the exit they had come in from at the far end of the tunnel. The ledge and night sky was visible, the snow still flying.
"I'll hold him off!" Zan half-threw Monkey to the ground. "Run and don't look back!"
Monkey didn't need telling twice, and turned to run as Zan pulled out his hammer and turned to face the monster as it emerged from around the corner.
A few seconds later, Monkey heard the rhino scream.
Zan, his father's old friend, dead. The thought didn't really register in Monkey's head. All knew that he was next. He could actually hear the monster not far behind. Coming for him.
In a surge of speed, Monkey reached the mouth of the tunnel, once again felt the wind on his fur.
He skidded on the frozen ground, stopped just short of the edge of the cliff. He gulped as he saw the ruined campsite a hundred and fifty feet down. He turned back towards the cave mouth on the other side of the field of bodies.
Slowly, it emerged from the hole. Its unimaginably large hands, black compared to the rest of its body, gripping the sides. Its terrifying face with its domed head sliding out of the darkness, followed by a muscular body covered in fur, blood and scars. Indescribable eyes fixed on the shaking teenaged primate on the other side of the ledge.
Monkey ran for the mountain path. The monster reached out for him and the tip of a claw nicked the primate's shoulder and drew blood. He could feel the sharpness and hear the snarl of frustration.
In front of him, the mountain path, terrifyingly steep and slippery. But much better than going over the cliff edge. Monkey reached the path and kept running. Then he tripped.
He fell, tried to curl himself up into a ball to decrease his chances of serious injury. He tumbled and tumbled. He felt pain with each impact with the cold ground, and at one point felt his arm break. He tumbled. Felt the angle of the path decrease. Reached the bottom and rolled through the snow. Skidded to a stop.
After a moment, Monkey shakily got up on his uninjured arm, his ankle swollen, blood trickling down the side of his head in a small stream, and looked back up at the top of the cliff. He saw no sign of the creature. Feeling only a little relief, Monkey sank back into the snow as two of the soldiers who had stayed behind rushed towards him.
Five minutes later, as Monkey was being treated by the army medic, the seventh soldier who had gone into the caves and was the only one who made it back out blabbering about demons next to him, he saw a dark shape peer at them from the top of the cliff. It was too far away to make out properly, but Monkey knew that it was it. He expected it to jump down and finish off the remaining soldiers and himself, but instead it began to climb, up the mountainside, away from the ruined campsite.
Monkey watched it go, and kept watching even as it disappeared into the snow and rock of the Himalayas.
Then he remembered his father and let the tears return, let them stream down his face as the gorilla soldier began asking questions.