#tharain

Quick forward - this is a standalone chapter about a D&D character I had played for the last two years. Please let me know what you all think and if I should continue telling his story.

BIRTH OF THE LIGHTBRINGER

T. H. Cutshaw

Rahitan exhaled a deep grunt, pulling the blackened steel blade from his opponent's chest, a look of horror forever frozen in the eyes of the man writhing in pain as he slowly died from the poison that coated the blade of the half-demon. A small crunch announced the presence of another soldier as Rahitan whirled around. With his sword outstretched, he gashed the human man from his shoulder down across his chest to his opposite hip, the armor splitting apart as if it were a knife slicing through butter. The third man thought he could catch Rahitan from behind, but he had not been as silent as he had thought, and Rahitan's blade buried itself in the man's stomach as he thrust the blade past his own left hip without ever turning around. The clash of the man's sword on the ground assured him that he had found his target.

A scowl spread deep across Rahitan's lips. These humans were growing bolder, the fear of fighting against demons was no longer as frightening as it had been when the battle had begun. Once the humans had realized that the demons were mortal and could be cut down they began to gain a bit of courage and charged their cavalries forward, taking out a large portion of Rahitan's front lines. He spared a glance towards where the front lines had stood. Nearly as many of his demons lay lifeless on the ground as there were humans, a sure sign that they had lost any advantage they had once held.

The sound of a demon dying was unmistakable, a sharp shrill piercing the ear sent shivers down ones spine when they screamed, but it also marked where the demon had fallen, and Rahitan used this screech to find his next target, a grouping of human soldiers that were gaining a strong footing against his own men. Perhaps they might provide me a challenge, he thought as he ran up on them.

Rahitan jumped down from a broken stone wall. As he landed he growled a low deep guttural noise that alone knocked one of the soldiers off of his feet. The half-demon must have been quite the frightening sight with his sharpened teeth glistening and his curled horns as threatening a weapon as the blackened sword in his hand. The white ashen skin was a strangeness among the demons, increasing his intimidating presence to those who opposed him. As fast as Rahitan's blade had cleaved through the stumbling man's chest, it was being whipped around again, slashing through another man's neck and piercing so deep into the third man's chest that Rahitan had to put his boot on the man to pull the blade free. A fourth man he dodged, grabbed his shoulder and shoved him onto the fifth man's sword, who had been trying to catch Rahitan from behind. That man stared in horror at having his friend thrust upon his blade, and Rahitan used that moment to decapitate him. At that moment the bellow of horns from the human army reinforcements sounded all around his left, front, and right sides. Two more men rushed Rahitan, and just as quickly as they attacked they both met their fates.

Though the soldiers that encountered Rahitan all found swift deaths, the battle was going far different for the the rest of his armies, who were unable to keep pushing forward against a human army that was roughly twenty times as large as the army he led. Rahitan had been the Sixth General of the Demon Army for less than a decade, and he had never before found himself on the losing end of a battle. It was infuriating to him that he could not push forward with any amount of strength. There was no chance that he would be able to pull a victory away from this failure, all attempts to regain the battlefield would be futile. As Rahitan saw it, he could fight to the last demon standing, as orders commanded. Or he could instead choose to do the unthinkable.

Rahitan was not the one to typically disobey orders; but in this instance he could save the rest of the demons from the agonizing torture that encompassed the rebirthing process that demons faced when they died. It was excruciating and brutal, a pain worse than any death itself; Rahitan himself could still remember his own last rebirthing vaguely in the back of his mind, and he had not died in centuries. Rahitan knew he would be punished by the Thirteen Lords of Darkness that ruled the Pits of Hell for the action he was about to make, likely the pain he would suffer would be far worse than that of being reborn himself. Still, there was no need to send two thousand other demons through that ordeal with him. The way he saw it, the unthinkable was his only real choice.

His voice boomed with echoes of magic, “Retreat!” he bellowed, his thunderous voice carrying across the battlefield “Retreat!”

Those demons around him gave a startled jump and they looked at him unsure of what to do. “You heard me, retreat damn you!” he snarled at them, baring his teeth. With that confirmation his armies began to fall back to where the portal had brought them into this plane. Rahitan covered their retreat, fighting back any who dared to approach while they fell back. Part of him wanted to stay and fight to his own death. He had enough combat skills to take out hundreds of humans before he were to die, but there was no way he could defeat the entire army on his own. But choosing to die alone at this point would be the cowards way out. No, he had to return to face the consequences for his decisions here. He sighed, and turned towards the portal, grabbed the two gems that rested at its left and right and jumped through the portals flickering remains, landing safely in hell before the Three of the Thirteen Lords of Darkness themselves. Their scowls were furious and showed clear discontent for Rahitan, but he flashed them a sly smile, “Were you waiting for me?”

______________________________________

Each breath he took felt like there was a fire burning inside of his lungs, the pain of the broken ribs throbbing in between each of those breaths. Blood poured from the gashes that ran all along his back and chest, while his arms and legs were stretched taught to the four corners of the room that was dimly lit by a flowing stream of lava along the wall ahead of him, some of which spilled out along the hundreds of cracks in the floor.

Rahitan stretched his jaw, surprised that it had not been broken; the last thing he could remember was taking a club to the side of the face until he passed out from the blunt force. Still woozy, he tried to clear his head so that he could think straight, but it was difficult to ignore the throbbing of his own heartbeat inside of his head. A few deep, but painful, breaths helped him clear his mind enough that he could finally think straight.

Scanning the room as far as he could turn his head, he became aware that the torturers had not brought any new devices into the room, which likely meant that they had thought they were close to breaking him. That made Rahitan smile, he was unsure how long he had been enduring these excruciating repercussions; he was certain it had been at least two centuries, possibly longer as it got difficult to decipher exactly how much time he spent unconscious, but he knew that he was still quite far from being ready to break in any capacity. He had been right about the pain being much greater than that suffered during the rebirthing process, but he did not care. Given the choice again, he would have made the same decision.

There were no sounds of the gate opening or closing, nor was their any clicking of footsteps on the obsidian floors, but Rahitan felt a presence approach suddenly from behind. It was odd, he knew that these cells were protected against teleportation spells, but it had to be some sort of trick by one of the Punishers none-the-less. Rahitan smiled a condfident smile, he was not going to let them know they had snuck up on him.

Instead, Rahitan made sure to acknowledge that he knew the other being was present, “You know, if you want to kill me you ought to just get it over with. All of these lashings and beatings and things you claim are supposed to be torture are really just getting rather dull and boring. Honestly I think I ought to file a complaint with the upper demons that your degree of suffering has really gone down a few pegs in the last millenia,” he chuckled with a slight roar.

“Ah, a sense of humor as well as a sense of honor. I'm impressed, those two things are seldom found in your kind,” the voice was calm and soothing, thus it was strange and unfamilar to Rahitan. It definitely was not the raspy gnawing voice of the Punishers, nor was it anything like any demons voice he had ever heard before. Still, it was likely nothing more than a trick of some sort, they were trying to get him to lower his guard and he was not going to cave in that easily.

Rahitan figured that he might as well play along, “Must be because I'm a half-breed, a bastardization to the race of demons,” his voice was deep and rough. “That's what you all like to say about us half-breeds, is it not? That we're all just going to disappoint The Thirteen Lords no matter what we do. Guess that just means that I'm living up to your expectations, doesn't it?”

The smile on Rahitan's face faded and a quizative expression appeared on his face for just a brief moment before being replaced with a stone cold expressionless stare as the man he had been talking to stepped out from behind him and into his field of view. At first glance, Rahitan thought he must be a half-elf, given his short pointed ears, but the man before him was staring him at eye level and he was suspended in the air by the ropes that pulled at his limbs. That meant that the man standing before him had to be at least ten to twelve spans tall, far taller than even the tallest of the full blooded elves. The mans eyes and hair were a dark shining gold that would have made a nobles jewelry appear ordinary by comparison, while the man's skin seemed to radiate a soft yellow glow where it was not covered by the elegant white robe emblazoned with a golden sunburst on the chest that reached out in all directions. The robe was made of materials that were so fine, even the most pompous of demons would not dare wear such a garment. If this man was not a demon, then who could he possibly be?

The man answered the unasked question Rahitan had proposed with a knowing smile, “I am the God, Liatan!” his voice shook with thunder, but garnered no reaction from the half-demon that stared blankly at him, not recognizing his name. As the supposed God grew flustered Rahitan could not help but to crack a slight smile.

The man's voice reflected just a hint of that frustration as he continued, “ The Light of the Heavens, Bearer of Justice, Protector of the Realms of Men and King of the Gods. My light child, have the demon lords taught you nothing about those of us in the heavens.”

Rahitan replied with a sly demeanor, “The only things they taught us about you is that we should try to kill you if you we ever came across one of you, to do so would give us ascension to Godhood ourselves,” his tone seemed to suggest that he would not mind trying to kill the man standing across from him.

As Rahitan took a closer glimpse of the man he was able to confirm that this Liatan's skin was actually glowing; it was not a trick, or if it was, it was quite an impressive one. Perhaps this man really was the God he claimed himself to be. But if that were the case – “Why are you here?” he had lost the sly smile and was almost threatening in his demand.

Liatan smiled as he approached Rahitan, meeting the gaze of the half-demon for a long moment before he glanced over to the side of the half-demon's face where a large gash ran along his cheek, the blood there still fresh.

The God's golden eyes were full of curiosity as they came back to meet Rahitans once again, “I was visiting the Pits of Hell on unrelated business when I overheard one of the loudmouthed guards mention something about bludgeoning you,” his gaze again glanced to the gash on Rahitans cheek, “I was quite curious about the demon that had chosen to retreat, when no demon had ever done so before, nor any since. The demon lords care nothing for their armies and will gladly sacrifice every last one of their demons to bring as many humans as possible to the graves with them. So why did you decide to retreat when no other general every has?” Liatan was looking at Rahitan intensely, as if he were seeing past the half-demon himself and into the very heart of the man that stood before him.

The golden-eyed gaze made Rahitan uncomfortable, he still did not know what to think of the God who stood before him. Deciding it was best not to be too trusting, he sneered a lie at the God, “I was going to pull back and wait for the human armies to let their guards down before reappearing on the other side and attacking them from behind. Unfortunately, my mage was shot and had not the strength remaining to open another portal.”

Liatan simply smiled, “No, I do not think that could be. After all I know that you always ordered your mages holding the portals to remain on the other side of them. The human archers were never close enough to the portal to effectively shoot your comrade through the portal.” His confidence seemed to fluster the half-demon a bit, but he knew what lay in the man's heart. The God continued, “I think the real reason you chose to retreat was that you did not have the will to send a thousand or more others to their deaths for no reason. Instead of following orders, you chose to follow your heart and spared them their lives, knowing that this,” Liatan gestured at the chains holding the half-demon, “would be your fate when you returned home. Even knowing that, you still chose to disobey your orders. That means only one thing, Rahitan Darkheart, and that is that you chose to save your army out of the kindness of your heart, something that no other demon in these very pits of hell would ever do.”

Rahitan tried to hide any astonishment he felt. Instead he smiled, gritting his teeth as he did so, “Maybe I'm just a masochist and I thought this would be a good way to get my fix.”

Liatan gave an amused chuckle as he smiled and stared on for a moment before speaking again. “Three hundred years of torture would have broken just about anyone else, yet here you stand, making jokes, a testament that your sanity remains. Even your own Demon Lords would likely have cracked at least a little under such pressure, if not entirely. No you are far more reslient than any other mortal I've ever met.”

That last part seemed to hint at something, Rahitan was sure of it. He was beginning to get annoyed by the God who stood before him than he had with all of those who had tortured him the last three millennia. Rahitan barked out at the tall glowing half-elf looking God, “Either shut up or tell me what it is exactly that you want from me.”

“You speak bluntly to a God,” Liatan smirked, “That's really rather refreshing, you know. Nobody ever dares speak to me like that, and even my most trusted advisors among the Gods don't dare tell me what to do.”

Rahitan chuckled, “Well what are you going to do? Send me to hell?” he laughed hard before once again he resumed his defiant seriousness, asking once again, “The Point?”

Liatan smiled a brief smile, “The point? The point is, I want you to be my champion,” Liatan no longer looked amused, but serious, and that alone wiped the grin off of Rahitan's face, his jaw dropping in bewilderment for a moment, the first sign he had shown of truly being shaken in Liatan's presence.

Slowly and uncertainly Rahitan responded, “You... you can't be serious... can you?” He took a deep breath and regained some of his composure, “Didn't you happen to notice that I'm a freaking half-demon? Nobody's going to trust that I even am your champion; and even if they did, it certainly won't cause anybody to line up and follow you. They'll probably think you're too crazy of a God to be worth following.”

That line only caused Liatan to grin once again, “You'd be surprised, Rahitan Darkheart, just what faith can accomplish. You might not have recognized it, but you have always managed to hold faith in yourself. That self-faith is what allowed you to endure through everything you've experienced here in the pits of hell and it is what drives you to seek justice for your troops who were deserving of it, even if you do not want to admit as much. You must know that I believe all of the races of Elowan deserve such justice. Show faith in me and I will help you achieve that justice for all of them, including yourself and any other half-demons who would forsake the Demon Lords of the Pits of Hell.” Liatan sighed deeply, something heavy clearly weighing on him, “Many in my order have become heretical, preaching false books attributed to me that forsake many of the things I stand for. If you choose to accept my offer, I will consign you to go out into the world of mortals, the world of Elowan, and preach that these heretics will no longer be let loose upon the world, and that I, Liatan, will always be supportive of all of the races. Show this faith in me, as I shall show faith in you with my belief that you will be successful in this endeavor as my chosen Champion,” once again Liatan grinned, “So, what do you say?”

The fiery eyes of the half-demon stared into the golden glowing eyes of the God for what seemed like an eternity to Rahitan. He was certain that the God's request was serious, and he had never really enjoyed the evils of Hell anyways. There was a good chance that this would be his only opportunity to escape from this place, and if Liatan was offering him a way out of here, then perhaps Rahitan deserved to give the God a chance. It certainly could not be any worse than doing the bidding of the Dark Lords.

Rahitan knew that he really had no choice if he ever wanted to make something of himself, but he still was not quite sure what to make of all of it. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than it had been at any point previously, “I accept your offer to be your Champion.”

Liatan smiled, “What was that?”

Rahitan growled it at the God standing in front of him this time, “I accept your offer to be your Champion! Now can you please get me down from here?” he shook the chains that still held him stretched outwards towards the corners of the walls in the small, dimly lit prison cell.

“That can be arranged,” Liatan pulled a sword out of seemingly nowhere that was made entirely of light as bright as the sun itself and pointed at his left ankle, where a jolt of light shot out and eviscerated the chain holding Rahitan's leg suspended, letting it drop below his chest. A second jolt of light freed his right ankle, then Liatan pulled backward and swung the sword over Rahitan's head, disintegrating the entire lengths of both chains that had held the half-demon's arms.

As the chains disappeared Rahitan collapsed face first to the ground. Slowly and carefully he began to pull himself up onto one knee. That's when he grew still as he noticed a flash of light streak down towards his left shoulder. It was the sword of light that Liatan held, tapping his left shoulder. That arrogant, amused grin still spread across Liatans face, “I knew it would be the only way I could get you to kneel.”

Once again the smile disappeared, replaced by complete seriousness, “From this day forth Rahitan Darkheart is dead, destroyed in his entirety in the pits of hell,” Rahitan gave the God a quzzical look, but Liatan continued without stopping, “In his place arises a soul reborn in the favors of the God of Light. From henceforth, you shall be known to the world only as Tharain Lightbringer, Defender of the Meek, Protector of the Poor, Champion of Light, and the Chosen Paladin of the King of the Gods – Liatan. From this day on you shall preach my gospels and take on those heretics who claim to praise me when their very actions go against every teaching I have handed down to mankind. Protect the innocent and downtrodden from those who seek to exploit them, even if they are not devout to me they are worthy of protection. Finally, and most importantly, be the best man you can be and always follow your heart. That is the reason you were Chosen and the reason I know you will succeed. These are your charges.”

The sword of light lifted over the half-demon's head to tap the shoulder before coming back and tapping him on the left shoulder a second time. Liatan was barely able to suppress his smile as he concluded his ceremony, “Now arise a new man, Tharain Lightbringer, Champion of Light.”

Rahitan – Tharain – stood up and smiled at Liatan, clasping his hand over the Gods thick forearm in a hardy shake. As their arms clasped each others, Rahit – Tharain – could feel the pain and anguish leave his body, reinvigorating him in the process. It would take time for him to get used to this, especially the new name, but he really did feel like a new man. A truly free man, Ra – Tharain – thought deeply upon that idea. He could now become a man who was able to make decisions for himself for the first time since he was born in the very pits nearby roughly a thousand years ago.

Still jovial, there was only a hint of sarcasm as Tharain turned to address Liatan, “So now what, God of Light?”

A mischievous grin grew on Liatan's lips, “I'll be bringing you to the mortal plane. From there you will be given time to figure some things out on your own as you grow accustomed to the world of mortals. Just remember to always follow your heart and you will be just fine. Don't forget to pray to me if you should ever need guidance.”

Tharain was taken aback, “But –“ a thick white smoke enveloped him, sending him into a raging coughing fit.

“But –“ Tharain looked around him, spinning full circle. Liatan was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the prison cell he had been confined to mere moments ago. In their place was a massive forest of tall, dense trees to one side of him while a large body of blue water stretched as far as the eye could see in the other direction.

Tharain did not know whether to laugh or get angry. He let his knees sink forward into the soft sand that stretched off before him and he spread his arms out, looking skyward. “Dear Liatan, God of Light. I just wanted you to know... I just wanted you to know that I think you are a real asshole for a God, you know!” He scowled and slapped the sand in front of him as he began to stand up.

The faintest sound of laughter seemed to echo on the soft breeze that blew by and it caused Tharain to chuckle to himself. He looked down at himself and noticed that he was still bare. “You could have at least left me some clothes,” he mumbled, more to himself than the God he now served. That was a concept that he felt would always be odd to him, serving anyone, yet alone the King of the Gods.

A few feet ahead of him, he noticed something small glistening in the high noon sun. Tharain jogged over to it, bending over to grab the object, he inspected it, recognizing almost immediately that it had to be the sword of light Liatan had been holding when the God had knighted him. It was a beautifully crafted golden hilt inlaid with silver sunbursts and rays, but there did not appear to be a place for any blade to be affixed to it.

Gripping it tightly in both hands Tharain stood up and began swinging it wildly about, attempting to make the blade of light appear before him, but after a few minutes passed to no avail he chalked his efforts up as futile. He grinned, Just another puzzle piece to figure out.