Chapter 142: Downtime

  A torrent of tears and cries echoed throughout the sandstone corridors of the Kah-Kamun palace, a sound so mournful it seemed to vibrate the very dust from the tapestries. It broke the silence of the dawn, waking servants, guards, and guests alike in the quiet, peaceful morning.

  The source of the disturbance was the palace dining area.

  A long table, carved from rich mahogany and set with fine silverware, dominated the room. It was laden with a plentiful breakfast—platters of fresh fruits, warm flatbreads, honey, and roasted meats—that was largely being ignored.

  At the head of the table sat King Ahmed.

  Tears ran down his cheeks in rivulets, soaking into his perfectly trimmed beard. His wallow was loud, uninhibited, filling the high-ceilinged room with the sound of pure, unadulterated misery, punctuated by the occasional wet sniffle.

  Next to him sat Queen Aleena. She looked impeccable as always, but her expression was a mask of irritation and disturbed peace. She massaged her temples, her tea cup rattling slightly in its saucer with every fresh sob from her husband.

  "Dear," she spoke, her voice tight. "Please stop your crying. It has been a week since we returned, and you haven't stopped... once. We all need some sleep."

  She sighed, a long breath that signaled her patience was fraying.

  "I'm sorry, dear," King Ahmed cried, grabbing a silk napkin and blowing his nose loudly. HONK. "I can't help it! Sniffle... I just... I felt so worried!"

  He looked around the table with watery eyes. "The reports told me you were fighting some monster. Samira left me and went after you! Bob and Mila, they also left for the desert to do... something dangerous! This past week felt so long. I was worried! And afraid!"

  He slammed his fist gently on the table. "Why did you all do that?!"

  He cried once more, a fresh wave of tears springing forth.

  Aleena turned to Samira, who was sitting across from her. She gave her daughter the 'Do something before I commit regicide' gaze.

  Samira was taken aback, blinking over her goblet of juice, but she nodded quickly. She understood the assignment.

  "Father," she spoke up, her voice sweet and cajoling. "Please. I already apologized for leaving like that. So can you stop crying? Please?"

  She widened her eyes, giving him the ultimate weapon: the puppy-dog gaze that had worked since she was three years old.

  "Look, even Malik is here safely," she said, grabbing the arm of the scholar sitting next to her and dragging him into the line of fire. "Beg him."

  "Uh... uh..." Malik stammered, adjusting his glasses nervously under the King's teary scrutiny. "Please... Your Majesty?"

  "Call me Father!" King Ahmed retorted, sniffing loudly. "You are my daughter's spouse!"

  "Right... sorry, Father," Malik corrected himself quickly, bowing his head.

  "Good..." King Ahmed said. His crying stopped for a second as he contemplated his son-in-law.

  "You had me worried sick, Samira," he said, his voice trembling. "But I already forgive you, my daughter. I'm sure you just missed Malik."

  "Yes, precisely," Samira hummed, patting Malik’s hand.

  "But... but..." King Ahmed’s lip quivered again. The dam was breaking once more.

  Samira panicked. She turned her head, looking a few rows down the table to where Bob and Mila were sitting, trying to eat their breakfast as quietly as possible.

  Bob took notice of the silent plea. He gulped down a massive chicken leg in one bite and wiped his mouth.

  "Brother," he said, his voice booming and warm. "Uh... we... we are here. We are alive and in one piece. What more do you need, right?"

  He clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture. "Can you stop? For me?"

  "Yeah... please..." Mila followed suit, her expression deadpan but her voice pleading.

  King Ahmed looked into their eyes—his brother, his niece. He saw their safety. He saw their presence.

  Finally, the tears stopped. He took a deep, shuddering breath and exhaled.

  "Okay," he whispered.

  Everyone at the table exhaled in unison, the tension leaving the room like steam.

  King Ahmed dabbed his eyes one last time, composing himself. He looked around the room, counting heads.

  "By the way," he asked, blinking. "Where are those two?"

  "Oh, them..." Bob said, a small smile creeping onto his face as he gestured vaguely toward the ceiling. "They are...."

  Meanwhile, in the bustling marketplace of Kah-Kamun...

  The day had started early, with the sunrise painting the sandstone buildings in hues of rose and gold hours ago. The city was awake and alive.

  Stalls were set up in a chaotic, colorful maze, their vendors shouting greetings and prices, welcoming anyone willing to part with coin. The air was thick with a sensory overload: the sharp tang of exotic spices from the east, the sweet aroma of rare desert fruits bursting with juice, and the savory smoke of exotic meats grilling on open skewers. Trinkets of brass and glass glittered in the morning light, lined up for inspection.

  "This is ridiculous," a male voice grumbled from the shadows of a food stall awning. "I feel like a child sitting on this tiny stool."

  "Then stop acting like one and finish your meal," a female voice replied, sharp and commanding. "We need the energy."

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  "I don't like this texture. It's too... mushy," the man complained, poking at his bowl. "And it's spicy. Why is everything in this country so spicy?"

  "It builds character," the woman retorted. "Something you clearly need more of."

  "I have plenty of character!" the man protested. "I have character in spades! I am overflowing with character!"

  "You are overflowing with hot air. Eat."

  To any eavesdropper, the bickering sounded painfully familiar. The complaining male, the stern, no-nonsense female—it had all the hallmarks of the runaways, Raito and Yukari, enjoying a rare moment of peace. The dynamic was unmistakable.

  But as the figures shifted, the illusion shattered.

  The woman wasn't the young, silver-eyed warrior. It was Zhu Lihua, the Blaze Lord, her red hair pinned up severely, sipping tea with the elegance of a predator.

  And the man wasn't the messy-haired boy with the black flame. It was Tanvir, the Quake Lord, looking ridiculously out of place in his formal outfit while perched on a stool meant for someone half his status, if not his height.

  They were the Lords. Just two patrons enjoying breakfast, but the air around them felt heavier, denser than the heat alone could explain.

  Zhu leaned in, her voice low enough to be lost in the market noise. She was recounting the events of the last week—what happened inside the metallic structure, the true history of their world, the existence of Dr. Iskandar, and the terrifying reality of Silux.

  She told him about them. About their origins.

  Tanvir listened in silence, his spoon hovering halfway to his mouth. When she finished, he slowly lowered the utensil back into the bowl.

  "That actually happened," Tanvir said, his voice flat. "I genuinely can't believe it."

  His tone was skeptical, his brow furrowed as if trying to parse a riddle in a language he didn't speak.

  "You don't believe me?" Zhu asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "You are not the type to lie," Tanvir admitted, rubbing his chin. "It's just that..."

  "Everything sounds like a fairy tale," Zhu interjected, taking a sip of her tea.

  "To be honest," she continued, looking down at her reflection in the dark liquid. "I personally don't know if I truly understand what I saw. What I learned. I don't know if I can believe it fully, even though the memories are starting to come back."

  "We are children from an Old Civilization," Tanvir muttered, gesturing to himself. "Taken. Experimented on. And turned into... this."

  He looked at his hands, as if expecting them to look different.

  "Don't worry," Zhu smirked over the rim of her cup. "You would still be short even if no one experimented on you."

  "You!!!!"

  Tanvir stood up, slamming his hands on the table, his face flushing red. But seeing the surrounding patrons glance their way, he quickly sat back down, clearing his throat to compose himself.

  "Still," he whispered, his anger fading into melancholy. "For what reason? Why us? Why did it make us?"

  "No idea," Zhu said. "But we have been under its orders for ten thousand years. It's about time we asked this question directly to it. To Silux."

  "And how are we going to do that exactly?" Tanvir asked. "Walk up to the creator god and demand answers?"

  "Don’t exactly have a plan in mind. At least, not right now," she admitted. "But we'll find a way."

  "With every answer, more questions come knocking," Tanvir sighed, massaging his temples. "Why can't everything be easy?"

  "Here," Zhu said.

  She reached into her sash and passed a small, intricate pill across the table. It glowed faintly.

  "This is..." Tanvir picked it up, examining it against the sun. "The pill you told me about from your story? Does it actually work?"

  "Just drink it," Zhu commanded. "And remember, you can only use your full power for five minutes a day. This pill should shield us from being controlled by Silux for the time being. It's our only defense."

  Tanvir exhaled, staring at the small object that promised freedom. "Alright."

  He gulped the pill down with a swig of tea.

  "Have you told the others about this?" Tanvir asked.

  "No, not yet," Zhu shook her head. "I am planning to. I will tell the story while giving the other two their pills."

  Her expression turned grim. "But... we are still missing two."

  "The Freeze Lord and the Static Lord," Tanvir nodded. "The Ruler of Ice and the Ruler of Lightning. Still no lead..."

  He looked out at the busy market. "How can two Lords disappear without a trace? With no elemental energy residue? It's impossible."

  "That is our next quest," Zhu said. "We need to gather all six of us, to confront our hidden past. But... I think those two would be better at this than us."

  "Those two?" Tanvir asked.

  "Let's just say they have much better luck at stumbling into things they shouldn't. Heck, they might already find a lead that connects to them." she said with a small, fond smile.

  "Ah, those two..." Tanvir chuckled, his confidence waning slightly at the thought of the chaotic duo. "God, not Silux, help us."

  He exhaled, looking up at the endless blue sky above, wondering what other secrets were hiding beyond the veil of their reality.

  Back in Kah-Kamun, the search for a different missing person was underway.

  "Not here. Not here. Not here! Where is he?!"

  A female voice muttered frantically, the owner darting from place to place like a hummingbird on caffeine. Yukari ran in and out of healing wards, checked the back rooms of hospitals, and scanned every face at the occasional food stall.

  "That means he is not here, in Kah-Kamun," Raito said, leaning against a wall to catch his breath.

  "But how can someone with that kind of injury be in the desert, roaming?" Yukari asked, spinning around, her hands on her hips. "He hit a wall at high speed! He should be in a critical care unit, not... out there somewhere!"

  "I know," Raito sighed, wiping sweat from his forehead. "But at the same time, we have been through every ward, every hospital, every clinic. He is not here. So the only lead we have... is that he is back at the desert somewhere. Or..."

  He didn't finish the sentence. Or he's dead.

  "I need to sit down," Yukari said, her shoulders sagging. "I'm panicking."

  This was Yukari and Raito's reality for the past couple of days. While the Lords plotted and the King cried, they had been scouring the city for any sign of the Old Man Raito met in the Golden Desert.

  They walked toward a nearby stone bench in the plaza and collapsed onto it.

  "That feels better," Yukari exhaled, stretching her legs.

  "We have been searching for days," Raito said, staring at the cobblestones. "Clearly, he hasn't left the desert. Maybe he really is..."

  "I know," Yukari cut him off gently. "But I was just hoping that someone managed to spot him and brought him back here. Like a patrol, an adventurer, or a merchant."

  They both exhaled a long, synchronized sigh.

  "Tired," Raito said.

  "Same," Yukari replied.

  "Why doesn't Void come with a 'make me less tired' power?" Raito complained, leaning his head back. "Unlimited energy sounds nice right about now."

  "No idea," Yukari replied, a small smile touching her lips. "But that just means we are still human. We still need rest."

  "True, true..." Raito closed his eyes for a second. "At times like these, we can only hope our luck is good enough that we will reunite with the Old Man right here. Like magic."

  Yukari laughed, a dry, tired sound. "What would be the odds of that? There is no way that man is just walking around in this plaza when we have already looked all over for hi—"

  Slap. Slap. Slap.

  Raito was lightly slapping Yukari’s knee.

  "What?" Yukari asked, annoyed. "Why are you slapping me?"

  She looked at him. Raito’s mouth was agape, hanging open like a fish. He was pointing a trembling finger toward the direction behind her head.

  "Uhhhhh........" he droned.

  "What?" Yukari turned her head to look.

  "Ah," she said.

  There, sitting at a nearby food stall not twenty feet away, devouring a bowl of spicy paste rice with the voracity of a starving wolf, was a man.

  He was thin. Lanky. His blonde hair was a matted bird's nest, and his beard was unkempt. He was wearing rags that looked like they had survived a war.

  The Old Man.

  "I... I think..." Raito stammered.

  "We found him," Yukari finished, stunned.

  "I swear we have the oddest luck possible," Raito complained, sliding down the bench. "We search the whole city, and he's right behind us?"

  "Well..." Yukari stood up, dusting off her pants. "Based on our track records, this would be just the start of something crazy."

  And she was correct.

  RUMBLE.

  The ground suddenly shook.

  It wasn't the vibration of a machine or a beast. It was a massive shift of the earth itself. An earthquake so powerful that it threw people to the ground, toppling fruit stands and sending pottery crashing. It was violent, terrifying, but brief.

  "Jinx," Raito said, holding onto the bench for dear life.

  BOOM.

  A loud sound of explosion rang through the horizon, shattering windows across the city. A massive pillar of ash and smoke shot into the sky to the west.

  The Zarateph Central Volcano, mount Tur’uga, dormant for centuries, had just exploded.

  "Double jinx," Yukari whispered, staring at the mushroom cloud rising in the distance.

  "Why does this keep happening to us?!" they both screamed at the sky.