The Story of Sheng Seleris - Part 3

From: Martin Laurie (102541.3423@CompuServe.COM)
Date: Thu 21 Nov 1996 - 21:54:29 EET


!!!WARNING!!! This chapter is rather unpleasant in places as it had to be and
is not for the squeamish.

The Story of Sheng Seleris - Part 3 - The naming of Sheng.

        Churra tried hard not to scream but the searing torment overcame her
discipline and she cried out in agony as I placed the red hot brand upon her
flesh once more. I felt myself roaring with pain in harmony with my sister as
the needles in me fed the excruciating feelings she endured back to me, her
unwilling tormentor.
"Good! Very good Tiger-Ox." The Mystic of Sharp Iron nodded happily as
he made me put down the brand. He picked up a large needle from his table and
pushed it slowly through his manhood while muttering a mantra with the High
Magic.
        At once my body and my own manhood jerked into action according to his
will, channelled by his magic through the dozen or more needles sticking in my
major muscle groups. Slowly, like a zombie, I climbed onto the table where my
sister lay chained and bleeding and with a mechanical motion, such as that used
by the beasts, I began to rape her with tearing force. She moaned her denial
and cried pitifully at each thrust and though it enraged me beyond even the
death of my mother at the hands of these pigs, there was little I could do. The
needles of Sharp Iron he had placed in me controlled my body like a puppet yet
fed me every spasm of her pain that I inflicted it upon her.
        This continued for what seemed and eternity, then I felt my sister in my
mind but her agony was fading, she was reaching a moment of realisation and I
knew what it was. It horrified me utterly. She was gathering her will to die,
to seek release from her suffering. I tried to scream at her, to stop her, to
assure her, anything, but my jaw would not move and all I managed to do was
dribble on her face as my body obeyed the will of another and continued its
laborious task. The idea of her death horrified me beyond even this act of
torment we participated in. She was all I had left, the only member of my
family who still survived and I loved her dearly. She felt my pain, my denial
of her wish but I felt her thoughts as though she spoke out loud and her voice
in my mind was serene, composed, even.
"I have to go brother, I cannot endure anymore. They seek to break you
through me and I have not your strength and you do not have the heart to see me
suffer no matter how much you can endure yourself."
        I spoke back to her as our souls linked beyond the physical interaction
of our bodies until we no longer felt our pain. For brief moments we had
clarity and peace. "We _will_ endure, they cannot break us, we are family!" I
cried to her. For all my words a part of me knew what she said was true but the
thought of being without her was a racking tear in my heart.
        She spoke again, so sadly. "Let me go brother." She pleaded. "Let me go
but always keep a place for me in your heart. I see blood and suffering beyond
any the world has known heaped at your feet and I will die knowing you will gain
vengeance for us all." She paused and I could feel the strength of her love and
pride in me. This was the moment when she defined me and my life and I will
always be grateful for that. "As my final gift to you as the elder of our
tribe, I name you as a man. I name you Sheng Seleris - "Pain Star" in the old
tongue for you will be an agony of light for the foes of our people. Remember me
and remember your name..." Her mind voice faded as she spoke and her eyes
glazed over in death. I felt her soul leave her body and saw into the spirit
world for that brief instant. Purple tentacles of power quested for her soul
which flew high and fast like the Vrok. She skipped and jerked her way through
them into the sky and broke free of this hell. I felt her happiness at the last
and knew that it was good.
        With her death my mind snapped back to my body as the needles in me fed
her passing to my senses. I jerked and spasmed on her corpse but suddenly had
control of my body once more.
        I leapt off her.
        The Mystic of Sharp Iron lost his smug serene look for the first time in
perhaps a hundred years as I stalked towards him. He stabbed a needle into his
leg in an effort to stop me but his sharp toys had no effect on me now. He
tried to run but I was on him like a tiger to a deer. I clubbed him to the
ground where he mewled pitifully but I had no pity in me. Not any more.
        I found his largest needle and spoke the words of seeing. I saw into the
spirit world and found his centre, where his soul connected with his body. With
utter force I rammed that needle into him, binding flesh to spirit even as the
flesh died. He screamed in torment at what I had done. I had bound his soul to
a corpse that would rot and fester with each passing day yet he would never
leave it, never join his ancestors in the Enlightened Heavens. For a Kralori
there could be no greater suffering. I felt somewhat content and smiled for the
first time in the eight years I'd been in the Camp. I kept smiling even as the
guards entered the torture chamber and clubbed me senseless.

        Chen Taio, Mandarin of Pain and Enlightenment, watched me calmly from
across the room as I regained my senses. When I looked at him he shook his head
sadly. "That was a very barbaric thing to do to the poor Mystic of Sharp Iron.
We had to destroy his body and still his soul is not free. How did you do
that?" He seemed almost amused and curious at the same time.
"I don't know, my rage freed me and I focused the suffering he had given
me back upon himself. He bound his own soul in a way and thus can never be free
of that."
        Chen Taio nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, yes I see, Very good, I like that.
You have learnt much since those days of childhood when you glared at me so
obstinately. However, as much as you entertain me, you must be punished for
your insolence. Guards, take him to the Hell of Peeling and Salt."
"Wait!" I commanded. The guards stopped at a gesture from the Mandarin.
"Yes? You wish to plead? How becoming!"
"No, I do not plead, do with me as you will but know this - I will kill
you and bring this place down upon you and your kind. There will be no mercy,
there will be no survivors. I will see it all burn." I locked eyes with him
once more and he saw my certainty as he always did. However, he was used to my
pronouncements of prophecy by then and merely laughed.
"Who do you think you are? The Chaos Dragon?"
"No, I'm worse, I am Sheng Seleris."
        He said nothing as they dragged me away. What more needed to be said?
        
        The Hell of Peeling and Salt was agony but I barely noticed. My mind was
elsewhere. Though they took of most off my skin with razors and graters then
rubbed in salt until I blazed with the pain. Though they healed me to do it all
again until I rose and fell on a tidal sea of torture, I never uttered a sound.
        When they finally let me go they did so with a strange and quiet respect.
They looked at me with awe and no little fear. As I left the Rooms of
Eviscerating Delights, the word of my defeat of the Mystic of Sharp Iron and
unheard of endurance in the Hell of Peeling and Salt was being passed quickly
around the camp.
        When I came at last to my barracks a strange sight greeted me as I walked
through the doors. All the men were standing in rows and when I entered they
bowed before me. They were led by Jongir, my first friend in the camp and not to
be the last.
"What is this?" I asked, surprise and pain made my mind slow.
        Jongir spoke. "We are your men, we follow you here in Hell and wherever
you may lead us. There is a light about you that we must meet, like moths to a
torch we are drawn to your service for men who have nothing to offer can still
give their fidelity."
        I looked around the group, at men who had once been broken but now seemed
to have a stiffness to their spines not there yesterday. My destiny loomed
sharp and clear. I would lead these men at first, then more. Eventually the
world would lie at my feet and give loyalty or die. It was prophesied, and so
it would be.
"I accept your loyalty. You are the first to give it but you won't be
the last. Yet if all the hosts of Heaven stood with me, always I will remember
that you _were_ the first!"
        They roared their approval at my words and so it began.

To be continued...

Martin Laurie

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