24: Transmutation
Yokai was panting, still struggling to reclaim her strength. “I told you, didn’t I? You can’t heal him with love!”
Phantasia found it difficult to speak. “I was…exorcising him…”
There was a malevolent guffaw and both girls watched horrified as the remains of the Patriarch’s original body crumbled to ash, only to reveal a second body beneath it. Phantasia could feel Yokai trembling, but the Fire faerie tried to maintain her pride.
“Didn’t they teach you anything?” she asked, “Sure, destroy the body to vanquish the spirit, but you’ve got to remember that a demon can reform its body so long as it has power!”
The Patriarch was looking at them, his skull-like face broken into a fanged grin. His legs braced themselves to pounce and neither faerie had the strength left for evasive manoeuvres. Phantasia once again found herself cursing her lack of knowledge.
“You’ve gotta overpower it!” continued an increasingly desperate Yokai, “It’s all about power. Everything’s about power!”
The Patriarch was about to attack when a body fell from above and landed in front of the faeries with a grace Phantasia would never have expected from a human.
“This man’s power is greater than both of yours,” said Wotan, “But I believe I’m ready to even the field now.”
The Patriarch tilted his head and grumbled. “Are you suggesting you have ascended beyond humanity too, Garland?”
“Unlike you, I have managed to retain my humanity for the most part,” replied Wotan.
The Patriarch relaxed his posture and the muscles of his legs were no longer braced for an attack. “Certainly your powers are greater than I would have expected of a mere mortal,” he said, “The power to atomise physical matter is something I’d expect to see from demons, not a human,”
Wotan grunted his amusement at the Patriarch’s odd naivety. “Even in this state you’re still just a Godhand devout?” he said, “For someone who has embraced the same heresy they condemn I’d have expected wider knowledge of the magical arts,”
“Our position gives us privileges,” said the Patriarch, “But we are as loyal to the true God as any others who follow. Your powers, on the other hand, are the work of heathens and blasphemers. Surely a man like yourself can understand why such power is dangerous for ignorant humans to wield?”
“The nature of the power isn’t what’s important,” replied Wotan. He glanced back at Phantasia, “It’s how you make use of that power.”
The Patriarch laughed, his gaping jaw opening wide. “Humans are too weak to use such power responsibly! You are living proof that we are right!” He hunkered down, once again gathering strength in his legs to attack, but Wotan was still nonchalant.
“Then I guess if the basic transmutation I used up there was an example of ‘irresponsibility’, what I’m about to do much be the height of anarchy!”
Phantasia could tell that both men were drawing on a great deal of magical power – the Patriarch from the lingering corruption of Godhand’s teaching, Wotan from his own internal control – but neither seemed prepared to unleash it. Any moment now, she could tell, one would make a move and the other would counter. If only she could tell what those moves were and which one would emerge victorious!
The Patriarch narrowed his eyes, his muscles tensing in the remaining moments. “Even if you were somehow to kill me, the other Patriarchs would chase you down until you were torn to pieces. You and your daughter! If you value her life, you will die here.”
“That was my intention all along.” said Wotan, “Death holds no power over me.”
“I’m glad to see you have come to your senses.”
“Unlike our white-haired friend, here, you don’t see anything.”
The Patriarch lurched forwards, his body crackling with unholy lightning. Instead of releasing his magic in some kind of ranged attack, he was using it to enhance his own physical power! Wotan would have to penetrate both mystical and physical barriers before he could even think of striking the Patriarch’s ethereal form!
But Wotan didn’t show the slightest concern at the demonic form speeding towards him. He was mumbling an esoteric mantra under his breath while forming a mudra with his hands: the mudra of release. Just before the Patriarch struck out, the mantra ended with a final statement.
“Gotterdammerung.”
***
