Story #342 - Half-god

Half-god

“Can you open it?” The old man’s voice was tense behind him, and Halus Vin considered rewarding such a question with a sharp smack across the mouth. He changed his mind after a moment – Torgan had been nothing but helpful, if unreasonably talkative, since their first meeting and without the portly scholar finding the Bones of the Maker would have been an impossible task.

“Give me a moment, Torgan,” Halus said quietly. “I’m thinking.” In fact, he had no idea how to move the large boulder in front of him and didn’t see and obvious indentation or crack where a key could be placed. Torgan had told him of the cave’s existence and the power it might be able to grant, but could say nothing of the method used to gain entry.

“I would advise you think faster, my Lord,” Torgan’s tone was tense. “Your siblings are no doubt watching us.”

At least the scholar had the sense not to name the Gods directly; they were vain and petty creatures, always on the hunt for those who would speak their praises or call down their rivals. Even mentioning them in passing could garner unwanted attention, but Halus was used to such things.

The Mother of the Gods had dallied with a mortal, a man whose name was scoured from the sands of time after Halus’ birth. Only the Vin surname remained, and only because none of the others thought to stamp it out and Halus became curious about his origins. Once the truth came to light, he was ordered to drop from the clouds and walk among mortals; his “kind” as the others described them.

Halus had been less than pleased, and demanded equal treatment as he was as strong and bullish as any of those that resided in the upper reaches. Destroying an unoffending stone column proved his point, but he was quickly dropped to his knees in pain by focused lightning from one of the elders – an act that proved theirs. No true god could be harmed by the power of any other, and that Halus writhed in agony made him different. Strength, speed and unnatural intellect aside he was a half-child, a bastard, and one that the gods did not want. Even his mother had been quick to disown him once the truth came out, and was the final vote needed to have him sent earthward.

“I am sure they are, scholar, but let them watch.” He knew better than Torgan that the Gods were not permitted to injure mortals without due cause, and the scholar had done nothing to offend them. So long as he kept Torgan close by, safety was assured for them both. “Now, shut up and let me uncover this secret.”

Still nothing came to him, but he needed silence to work. Though the scholar’s intellect was almost a match for his own, the trail leading to the Stone ended abruptly with its discovery and no writings could be found of anyone having opened the cave since its creation. Hefting a nearby log, Halus hurled it at the jagged, grey-green blockage in his path; the log split, but the rock remained unmoved.

He sighed. His strength had been more of a curse than a blessing since his arrival on mortal soil, with the smartest of those around him well aware that he could do nothing unless first attacked. They spent their time instead hurling insults, petty things that did not hurt one by one, but began to sting when amassed over the long term. While he acted as though such slights were beneath his dignity, they served to shore up just how much of an outsider he truly was, how different from both man and god.

“Perhaps you could just smash it.” Torgan’s voice was soft, and Halus bit off another acid reply. There was no reason the man couldn’t be right – it just rankled to need help at all.

A deep breath and a curving backswing gave Halus the momentum he needed and a crashing blow fell, driving into solid stone and sending the hand quickly back toward his face.

“Dammit!” Torgan swore. “Nothing!”

“Not exactly,” Halus replied, shaking his hand. Touching the boulder had brought a surge of pain, one he hadn’t felt since the scum of heaven had discovered his true linage and began their abuse. Even then, the jolt given by the boulder was more direct, more powerful. “Tell me again what you read about the boulder – the specific passage and none of your equivocation.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Torgan said quickly, then closed his eyes and began to recite. “The chosen will crack open the seal, bred to do what man and Gods can, yet cannot.”

Before the scholar finished speaking Halus was moving again, taking the boulder in both hands and gritting his teeth as searing pain came. He dropped into a squat, set himself and began to lift even as the agony increased. A bellow came to his lips unbidden, and Torgan took cover behind a nearby bush.

“Open, damn you!” Halus bellowed, and felt the rock began to move even as pain began to surge in hammering waves. He was both, he was neither – the fulfillment of prophecy; one who could both feel pain and yet possessed the strength to open the Bones of the Maker. He was unique.

With a final heave, he pulled the boulder free and tossed it away. A rush of musty air met him at the cave entrance, disgusting and moist, and Halus dropped to his knees. Glory at his victory was met with a measure of fear – what did the Bones hold?

“Yes!” Torgan exulted, running forward.

“Wait!” Halus cried, reaching out to stop the quickly-moving scholar, but it was too late. The large man reached the cave’s threshold and was instantly incinerated, howling as his flesh charred. He should have known better – the “chosen must step first onto cold stone.”

Stepping over the scholar’s broken form, Halus Vin the half-god entered the Bones to claim his birthright.


-D