As I arose from slumber, my eyes beheld the visceral reality. The protonopia had vanished, and sanguine was an ever-present truth amidst what was once grayscale.
Ahrion’s midday light bathed everything in vermillion. I stretched myself out and gazed around the room that was arranged like a nursing home for horses. Maghnus’s mane was a deep red in the reflection of the scaled mirror. His fur was tinted with a pinkish hue, while the eyes… I knew they were mine, but under that sunlight, they were not blue. They were black balut.
I am still a horse.
Yet, hanging around my neck was the rosary. My eyes widened at the impossibility,
Maghnus urgently suggested in absentmindedness.
Carelessly, I acknowledged,
I peered outside the clear-chitin windows and noticed, from what appeared to be a hundred feet above the ground, the destruction below. The barn was but a disheveled pile of the remnants of flesh, bone, and burnt fur. There was a murcon across from the ruins of the barn, as dozens of stallion remains and a marginal number of mare corpses were strewn around the entire area.
My companion chuffed,
I nodded as I swiftly began to run through the corridors of the barracks. It was silent. Far too silent.
I continued running through the vessels of the barracks, descending through multiple flights of enamel stairs before bursting through the front leather doors. The murcon lay about a hundred yards away, as I began to sprint towards it. As I closed the distance, Maghnus suddenly commanded,
I clogged my hooves into the dirt at the abrupt signal,
After squinting my eyes, I observed the swaying of pink-tinted bristles flowing in the wind. I unholstered my cannon, reloaded it, and glared at the flake. Whoever he was, he wasn’t moving. I scavenged for a few rocks and tossed them towards his position. No response.
I swayed my head in reprieve, as I hesitantly aimed the cannon towards Buchalan. He wasn’t moving. His wounds were deep. The black Peqan’s right arm appeared like shattered wood. His left eye was outside of his socket, dangling by a mere thread of the optic nerve. His hatchets were destroyed, as they were mere toothpicks compared to their former glory. His voice box had been torn off, viciously, with remnants of torn, black filaments piercing his sinew. Despite these wounds, Buchalan was still breathing, albeit inconsistently. He didn’t have long left.
I suggested with a hint of bitterness at the state of an old confidant. Maghnus grumbled in agreement, as I kneeled to observe him further. A pungent, burnt rot wafted from his dying body.
Maghnus recollected with hesitancy,
Buchalan began to choke much of his internal viscera, as his right eye, itself bloodshot, opened.
I met his eye, “Buchalan! I know you can’t speak, but… What happened?” I clutched my throat, half-shocked by the sound. It was mine. My human voice. To Maghnus, I figured,
Buchalan pointed to one of his distant hatchets, weakly jabbing his finger towards it a few times. I trotted over, grabbed it, and handed it over to his still usable left hand. In the iron-dust soil, he drew three shapes, haggardly in the midst of his wheezing. The first was burning rubble with a ship next to it, which had Peqans being directed into. The second image was an oval with arms, legs, and a jagged grin. Last amongst these, he lightly traced a drill-tipped spear within a cell. Once he finished, Buchalan violently coughed more blood and collapsed headfirst into the dust, spreading his last will as ashes upon the wind.
After I confirmed the silence of his heart, I grimaced and dipped my head, “Peace be with you, somewhere along the way…” I stood up and gazed around the wreckage.
Vitriol fell on us like salt upon wounds. I trudged along towards the murcon,
I could feel Maghnus shrug as he croaked, Maghnus paused briefly, before he hinted,
Far too many pieces of the puzzle had mismatched patterns,
I did so, as the top half of the face flayed from the skull like a carnal orange peel. I climbed in and picked a seat, itself molded from gray matter, before reaching forward to pull another fang. The bat’s skin folded back, and the scalped right eye of the beast lay before me; a menagerie of avionic information was splayed along the breadth of the optic structure. The controls of the murcon were similar to those of helicopters I had seen in films before, just constructed from bone and muscle. The control lever was a sculpted brown ulna, while a white altitude lever was nestled to the left of my seat. The pedals were two rectangular scapulas just behind the gums.
“Maghnus… How in God’s name do I pilot this?”
The Peqani soul chuckled lightly at my annoyance, seared in perplexity,
I gazed around the cluster of dials and recognized a fuel gauge-like ornament. Going by the marks, the murcon had a tenth of its tank left.
Maghnus affirmed,
Maghnus pondered briefly,
I cocked my head at the word choice,
He solemnly cut me off,
I gave a short grunt and flipped the switch; the murcon’s white fluorescence activated while the bowels growled like a tiger. The sangreline engines bubbled into life, as cyan and chartreuse lights dotted the interface like stars in the Zodiac. I raised the altitude lever gradually, getting a feel for the craft. After ascending several hundred feet, I let go of that lever and carefully shifted the directional one. The murcon turned slightly with each movement before I pressed down on the accelerator. The craft violently jolted due to the excessive pressure; I let off the pedal, as sweat pooled on my forehead. I calmed myself after a few seconds, before I turned eastward and lightly pushed the scapula.
I scoffed, “Sure. Thanks to your muscle memory, probably. Now, tell me where to go.”
Maghnus snorted lightly,
The horse thought for a few moments before relaying,
I picked up on his implication, < Mardis expecting us is worse…>
I rolled my neck, “Very well. Into the fire we go, then.>
Silence dawned between us as I flew the murcon underneath that growing twilight. The eastern quarter of the city of Rathaph was almost entirely wilderness outside of the military installations. Fields of bioluminescent blue, chemosynthetic flowers and mushrooms were arrayed as organic alchemical blooms. Chartreuse rivers barged along like chaotic gales as they flowed southwestward towards the distant shores of the snout and chin of Grasun. Massive, crimson boreal trees littered most of the landscape to the southeast; each leaf was like a turkey's gizzard flapping in the breeze. The gray and black mountains ascended from the north, and even their peaks were devoid of snow.
The scale of those foothills had already rendered awe within me. Ancient mountains of a bygone geologic war. The two sides in the conflict were jagged spires that were but daggers to the swords further north. After some time traversing the interior of the range, a great crimson and yellow castle was nestled within the tissue of a great, wide cliff face. It was the head of a colossal viper, its lips severed to reveal its gum-constructed bricks. The foundations were from the bones of other beasts, laden as columns and other supporting structures. The drawbridge tongue closed over the esophageal entrance to the castle, as the massive molar gate was clenched.
A garbled voice emanated from the console, “Unidentified murcon, this is Guazhin nine-seven-three. You are within Ratha-Ran airspace. State your business, or be shot down.”
The Peqan grumbled, as my larynx warmed and my eyes shifted. He reported, “Guazhin, this is Maghnus. Permission to land?”
The voice stammered slightly, “Ah, Maghnus! Rathaph has been expecting you! Come along to the third landing platform from the right. We will escort you to him.”
“Bounty to you, Guazhin. I will be there soon.” The radio cut off as the burning of my throat eased.
I frowned,
He reassured,
I recalled the sensation,
I gave a slight smile, “Sounds like a bargain to me…”
Maghnus sighed humorously as we continued towards the landing platform. Several Peqans surrounded the circular landing, as I descended slowly. After landing the vessel, whose fuel gauge was near empty, I switched it off. The lights dimmed, I pulled the fang down, and I was bathed in the red sunlight once more and the shadow of that fortress. My voice burned, and my eyes seared into green.
…
Memories. Wet sand under acid rain. Burning. Burning. Burning. Ripples everywhere. Trenches. Blood. Failure.
Maghnus slumbered. We studied him. His vitals were normal. Eyes wrong. Blank like pearls. Mental scans failed. We were waiting for him to return. To resume that ritual, one he did not deserve. There was no glory. No honor. It was a scheme by my rivals. By Mardis. Approved by Rathaph.
Maghnus is his authority alone. The others are acting with him. Mardis and the Reyens wanted this. Rathaph wanted this.
Why?
There was no life in his eyes. Just the blank hue of a fallen warrior. The bands across his eyes. Black as the leaves of the forest. There was no life in him. They were turning him into a machine. Rathaph wanted a machine. Not a Peqan.
Why…
Rathaph is red. Mardis is red. Ahrion is red. Our world is red. And all of us are…
Blind to it.
We are being deceived.
Ahrius… You were right. The was tribute. Maghnus’s body. The five of us. Everyone else but Hersheus, Reesh, and Tuks. But the dimyonaut changed things. Other vessels were closer to Theia. Why were we sent?
And what was “Rathaph” planning?
What did Ringal find?
Shouts. Spear in hand, I observed. A vessel. Not Peqani. Too metallic. Yet, those within were Peqans, draped in platemail and wielding armaments of steel and star. I rushed through to confront these blasphemers. They saw me and fired immediately.
As I retreated for cover, they pricked me with a dart of melted lard. A mere wastrel of a wound. An insult, even. One that made me ever so weary.
I drift in these thoughts. Half awake, I witnessed the carnage before me. It was a massacre. Collapsing marrow. Flowing blood. Drowning cries. Fading smoke. My brethren fell, and a few fabincillas did as well. The rest were distributed to that ship. The last Peqan on board, dressed in his armory. Midnight black with fiery eyes…
Surely that wasn’t him…
Delusion. A false hope.
Thoughts were ripples in the desert, dragged away as silken mantles in the wind. Eroding in the tide.
A murcon with two occupants: Esbon and Buchalan. Gray yolk stained both of them. You fools.
You know what happens when you kill one of them.
…
After climbing out of the head of the bat, as the beads of my necklace bounced along my shoulders, several Peqans of varying sizes and colors greeted me. All but the largest amongst them, a brutish strawberry roan, saluted me. The roan offered his left hand, and I did the same. An unexpected challenge of grip strength followed, as my hand was crushed by his. A mild look of confusion streamed across his face.
“No need to be so reserved, Maghnus! I know your grip is stronger than this!”
Maghnus sighed within,
I took his advice, realizing the stakes. I tightened my fist, as I rapidly struck the strawberry Peqan in the chest. His massive form stumbled backward and tripped over himself, as he fell upon his back. He wheezed for a few moments from the impact, as Maghnus joked, “Feshe, please! You look like you could fall over from a light breeze, let alone a punch from me! I don’t want to waste resources crushing your hand, boy!”
The many stallions around us bellowed in amusement at the ordeal. Feshe arose amidst the laughter as he joined in the baritone choir. “There’s the Maghnus I know! The restoration was not perfect, but here you are! The fabincilla was the key after all. Now, shall we have the honor of escorting you?”
“Like stones in the desert, we glide,” Maghnus concluded.
“Guardsmen, if you will?” Six Peqans, each carrying tibiac gauss rifles, surrounded me, while the drawbridge across the expanse uncoiled itself. Feshe led the way, and the rest of us followed. I tried to match his cadence, yet my curiosity for the castle could not be contained.
I gazed around the facade of the serpentine fortress, noting the massive fangs that were the floor and ceiling-aligned towers, alongside the yellow tongue drawbridge we walked upon. The interior of the maw contained a vast network of cantonments, hospitals, barns, meat-tree farms, and armories. The reverb of armament training, strength competitions, mare abuse, and feasting bellowed through the entire inner city, as we eventually approached the massive esophageal entrance, barred by the titanic molar gates.
Feshe glared at me, “You look around a lot more than you used to…”
Maghnus stammered, as I rubbed my head to play the part of ignorance, “Ah, right… I have been more curious. Observing details.”
“You have been here hundreds of times, Maghnus,” Feshe narrowed his eyes, as the guards unclacked their safeties. Feshe held his hand high to keep his men steady. The chains of the doors loosened, yet were not permitted to open.
Maghnus pondered for some time, then acknowledged, feigning confusion, “Must have been the restoration. It didn’t go as planned, as you described, so there might be some… ‘Disfigurements’. They should heal with time.”
The strawberry brute lightly bobbed his head. He raised his hand further, then collapsed it downward. The teeth were unlatched, as they opened wide into the throat of the serpent. Within, the uvula was a low-hanging fruit. Decaying with a disgusting orange light.
Maghnus erupted in my thoughts,
I countered,
Maghnus sighed apprehensively,
The internal structure of the cathedral was a massive, opulent chamber from what I allowed myself to discern. Dozens of taxidermied animals, from toralens and Slough-deer to virtumadons and jyrgrans, arrayed my periphery. The floor was a series of polished scales, ornately decorated like Buddhist temples. Each scale was… I twitched, stopping myself from observing the floor further.
Maghnus growled,
Feshe noticed the movement as we began to climb the several chitin-brick stairs. He raised his left hand, clenching at the air. His voice grew more suspicious, “I know Hersheus was a hemlockian imbecile, but he was one of the best surgeons. Maghnus. You. Never. Twitch.”
“Hersheus did not…” Maghnus stopped himself before acknowledging, “My body is ancient, far older than he was. He must have made an error, assuming that I was ready for processing.”
We approached a series of golden gum-laminated corridors and proceeded through the third hallway from the right. Feshe considered Maghnus’s words before retorting, “From what we were told, you ready for processing.”
“Then Garruz lied to me… I can’t explain, then. Something must have gone wrong,” Maghnus folded, trying to pass his lie as believable.
We proceeded through the passageway, as the tension bubbled. Another set of stairs awaited at the end, the same as the previous except far taller. For several minutes, we ascended into the tectum of Ratha-Ran before we arrived at another molar gate. The two gargantuan sentries there were ornately armored and possessed massive slug rifles that could devastate an entire battalion of Peqans. Feshe signaled the patrol around me to back away, as they retreated into the entrance of the atrium. Feshe turned around, with a scowl:
“A real shame… You were always so predictable...”
The tension boiled over as the guards raised their rifles towards me, and I clutched my cannon. Maghnus shouted, attempting to salvage the situation, “Feshe! What are you doing, you fool? You would deny the Excazajor’s will?”
The brute remained steadfast, “Rathaph told us that you were supposed to blame Xanthum if you were solely Maghnus… And if you weren't, then anyone else.”
“By Rathaph’s mane, Feshe, what does it matter? The restoration was a failure. You know that! Yet, I still have my voice. I still have my eyes.”
The guerche smirked mockingly, approaching me, “Yet, what do I notice. Right. ?” He flicked the rosary hanging from my neck. “You tried to play it off as chitin, didn’t you? You thought I wouldn’t notice florigen and rustic constructions, dimyonaut?! I have lived far longer than you have! I know better than you.”
I scowled as my eyes almost discarded the facade. Maghnus cursed at himself for our inattentiveness, as he argued, “To what rot falls from your maw, guerche? This ‘necklace’ was never removed from my body.” I clutched upon the cross hanging from it, as he remarked, “If it was never removed, then it must be of sinew, chitin, hair, or some other flesh!”
Feshe bore his fangs in annoyance, “‘Maghnus’, Hersheus never reported such an object belonging to the dimyonaut. Let alone you wearing this… Shell on your head. If you were truly, solely, Maghnus, then, by the spear of the Excazajor, why would you not discard it? It is WASTE as but a mere ‘hat’.”
Maghnus growled in my head,
I blinked, as my anger ignited under the weight of his vitriol for my relics. As I opened them, my eyes returned as blue flame. Feshe and the two guards were initially stunned, as I declared, “Nine against one? This won’t take long…”
The six guards behind me raised their rifles, as Feshe and the massive sentries did the same. They circled like buzzards, awaiting the right moment to strike. I chambered my cannon and aimed it directly at one of the sentries. However, just as that same stallion was about to take his shot, the bubbling of a massive blood vessel bottled the coming storm.
“At ease! At ease! Maghnus here is my guest! You raise your arms against my beloved visitor?”
Feshe and the other eight Peqans holstered their rifles and kneeled. Feshe confessed, “This is not Maghnus, Excazajor. His eyes. His voice. His curiosity. And that… Sickening floral talisman. They are exactly the cues you told me to—”
Mardis interrupted him, “Feshe… I told you those things because I expected them. I am very well aware of his ‘conditions’. It’s all a part of the plan.”
Feshe countered, foolishly, “My lord! This isn’t how Lehitadam is supposed to go! Per your own Words—”
“What my last Words, Feshe?” His tone was heavy, dripping with corrective contempt.
Feshe stumbled on his own words before he mumbled, “My most sincere apologies… What are your commands for us?”
“Leave the Mustang and me alone. If he were here to kill me, none of you would be alive.” Feshe and others bowed their heads to the black, scaled floor. Upon approving of the display, Mardis commanded, “Now, Saula, Guilis. Would you two be dear enough to open the door? I’ll take care of the rest.” The two massive centaurs did his bidding, unlocking the many latches of the great gate. One of them, the larger one with black fur and white eyes, grumbled in displeasure as he, alongside the rest of the Peqans, left the tectum.
Once they departed from the atrium, I growled in ire, “Mardis. What makes you assume I wouldn’t kill you?”
Mardis scoffed as I passed the threshold, “Please, my friend. Don’t insult my intelligence. Besides, must we be hostile when we are confidants in a shared goal of liberation?”
My eyelids drooped in rejection, “As if…” The hallways began to transition from gore into a more humane, yet familiarly clandestine, style. “Who told you? Mazhivada?”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Mardis blurted through his donkey lips, “I didn’t need Mazhivada’s premonitions to know that the restoration was doomed to fail. As soon as Khaivazh’na disrupted the process, there was no hope for this working as originally intended. Mazhivada merely verified the expected fuck-up. It doesn’t help that Maghnus’s body was never supposed to be used for restoration. It was but a morsel of a tribute.”
“Tribute?” I raised my eyebrow at his tone. I considered previous inconsistencies as I passed into an immaculately ornate hippocampus, whose entire gray matter architecture had been replaced with fine snakewood, white-colored metal, gold, ebony, and smooth gray marble. I then proposed, “Was the itself an offering to Yolm?”
The Excazajor chuckled approvingly, “You catch on quick, Wanderer! It was indeed but an appetizer to the feast I was to offer him once Lehitadam was fulfilled. And a way to get rid of some pricks at my side. You could really say it was a gesture of gratitude.”
“For what, Mardis?”
Mardis deliberately paused, as he menacingly revealed, “A seat at Yolm’s side.”
My eyes widened, remembering the octopus egg's phrase. I realized what Maghnus originally meant, “You offer the Peqans to him… As that feast.” Horror chilled my blood, as Maghnus’s heart became a boiler.
“Oh, I love talking to someone who is actually educated and not those brain-dead growths! I would adore talking with you more. Face to face. Come on through, my boy. We have much to discuss.” There was no hint of remorse for the genocide he intended. Still, why was I abducted by that ship? Pieces were still misaligned.
The double wood doors to his quarters lay just ahead. The carvings within them were serpents emerging from colossal spheres. Four in total, two on each door. The handles were brass implements, also appearing like serpents. I pushed one of the handles, passed through, and discovered a familiar pungency:
Mold.
…
I am floating. A dark cloud in space. Drifting along the current.
Is this death?
No. It is far too warm. My heart still beats. Blood flows. I am exhausted.
Why?
Memories are a skeletal asylum. Rib cages keep me still. All I see are those ahead. I am deaf to those along my sides.
The door slowly opens.
I leave. I see. I remember.
EWS. DRQ. ODT.
They morphed into titans of abominations. Words were absent. Buchalan crashed into the ruins. His axes splintered. He struggled to rise. Bloodied. Broken. ODT fell upon him again. Buchalan’s arm splintered. His eye was gouged. His throat was bitten off. He will not live long.
Esbon… Esbon…
Drawn. Quartered. Kept alive. Devoured by the three. I could feel every single scream. Even in my stupor, I knew. Esbon, you imbecile… What were you thinking?
Unless… They were hunting you both already. What did you find?
Dishonor flows from me. I lie here. Frozen. Weary. Useless.
Rust wafts through me. The Eggmen have me.
Why… Am I… Alive?
My tongue is sand.
…
“Be a sweetheart and shut the door as you come in.” Mardis’s voice echoed.
Maghnus interjected before I could, “No.”
“Have it your way, Maghnus.” The door automatically shut behind me, as if guided by an invisible force. I observed the door unit and contemplated the scent. Mardis countered before my argument was made, “They aren’t here, dimyonaut. Not yet, anyway. The three of them are dealing with some nuisances.”
I turned away from the door and walked towards the massive executive desk to the right of them, “So you can do what they can?”
“Enough to close a door, at least. So discourteous of you, by the way. I have an image to maintain.” I scoffed at his belligerent sarcasm, voicelessly.
The chamber was a gigantic library, many stories tall. An ambient, white-tinted skylight illuminated the internal coil of those millions of books. The spiral staircase ascended clockwise, as the steps began behind his desk. Marble, ivory, and ebony decorated much of the internal viscera. To my left was a great, one-way window, also tinted white. We were far above the clouds, as jagged gray speartips pierced the green-yellow veil, underneath that crimson sun. None of Ahrion’s light had any hold over that library.
Mardis chuffed in pleasure, “Quite a marvelous place, isn’t it?”
I shrugged, “I admit, it does look more civilized than the rest of your facetious empire.” A grimace breached my face, “Still, it’s all a part of the same lie.”
Mardis’s desk was before me, with an elongated office chair swiveled away from me. The Chilliarch confirmed, “No denying that. Have a seat.” Maghnus and I both wanted to refuse this offer. However, Mardis accounted for this: “I highly advise against standing. It would make things difficult later. For you and for me.”
I nodded and sat upon an ornate, leather couch facing the chair. As the cold skin of the furniture graced my underside, I discerned with great annoyance, “An office chair being turned away from me, hiding a figure, all to add tension to a reveal. I know your voice is still coming out of a speaker, Mardis. I know you’re not there.”
After several moments, the vessel cut off, and a door behind me opened. I swiveled my head and saw the three-foot-tall Peqan emerge from the saffron-tinted darkness. He wore a fine, khaki linen suit, with a green tie, adjusted to fit the entire body of the pony-sized centaur. His red fur and skin complemented his black mane, as his zebra tail descended from his backside. His gray eyes matched his abominable presence, for the Chilliarch carried the confidence of a man five times his size.
Mardis grumbled with disappointment as he switched off an earpiece, “Damn, I was really hoping that would have worked. I have always wanted to do that since I learned of it decades ago. Ah well. Water under the bridge, as you sheep-spawn say.”
The midget Peqan trotted over to his desk, swiveled the chair towards me, tossed the speaker aside, adjusted the seat height to its highest setting, then ascended the monolith. His lips parted, revealing pearlescent fangs, “Now then, shall we get started?”
I glared at the small man, knowing full well of the intent. With great frustration, Maghnus grabbed a hold of the first question, “Why was I restored, Mardis?”
Our adversary threw his arms in the air, “I honestly wish I knew that as well. The , as you figured, was a ‘fruit basket’ to Yolm. And you have correctly gathered that I would not have sent that ship to… ‘Acquire’ you on Theia or Indris.”
Cogs began to turn in my head, “That means someone sabotaged it. Was the the only one to register my crossover?” Mardis grinned and clapped a few times as he bobbed his head in amusement. I then proposed, “The Eggmen didn’t cause that barn to collapse, did they?”
Mardis sighed in satisfied frustration, “You are correct. The Eggmen are currently… ‘Dealing’ with those Queflarian irritants. Everything was timed perfectly. He timed the extractions perfectly with your several hours of slumber. I wouldn’t be surprised if he is the reason why the alert didn’t go out to the other ships. That is still under investigation. If he did do it, he hid his tracks well…”
Squinting my eyes, I inquired,
Maghnus whispered with remorse,
I affirmed with a huff as I hypothesized,
Maghnus grunted in confirmation, as I focused back on Mardis, who was reading me with a curious ire. “You know, you could have asked me about him. There’s no need to go along asking your internal accomplice.”
Vexed, I responded, “As much as you proclaim this to be a fair conversation, I know of the narratives you draw, Mardis. I know that you will try to mislead us with information…”
“So we understand each other.” He shook his head in dismay, “A shame that you rejected Mazhivada. Expected as it was, it is still… Unfortunate that you have chosen such a foolish thing.”
I clasped my hands over my rosary and stared straight into Mardis, “I’m not the one feeding my own people into a serpent’s maw.”
Mardis leaned forward, “Come on, now. I am securing my own survival here. As you saw, the Peqans are doomed regardless of what path they choose. The Vrael, the Dyraqhi, or whoever else… They will become extinct—”
Maghnus beat me to the punch; his rage burned brighter than mine, “Bastard! You are the reason the Peqans are in the situation in the first place! You were the one who corrupted everything Seipran created on Ran’Stiig! You dishonored every single Word he uttered! All to toss us all unto this chafing dish. One that ‘Mazhivada’ is boiling us alive in. ‘Rathaph’. Remind me, Mardis. What did your father translate it as?”
The Chilliarch grinned, “Oh yes. ‘Restore.’”
“And what is the dermis beneath that facade?” Maghnus’s voice preceded a flood of hatred.
Mardis exposed his teeth in mild laughter, as he reminded him, “‘Denature.’”
I was confused by this initially, but Maghnus clarified,
My lips narrowed, and my face clenched in fury as I understood; the temptation to shoot that vile bastard was like floodgates holding a mudslide. I shot up like a geyser as I grabbed my cannon and aimed it at him.
Mardis grinned widely, deliberately pressing his forehead into the upper canines of the skull, “Go ahead. Kill me. Do the ‘good deed’. Sentence these horselions to death.”
His taunting enraged me further. We all knew what would happen if he died. I groaned angrily in defeat, “Mardis, you are in such a great position. You know I want to kill you, you little fuck. And you are taking advantage of the fact that I shouldn’t.”
As I holstered the cannon and sat back down, our enemy smirked, “It would just hasten everything if you did. You do that, and Ahrius and Garruz are dead. If not immediately, then certainly later. The Dyraqhi, like the Vrael, do not spare a soul.”
I breathed heavily, as Maghnus’s desire to strangle that donkey-lipped wretch was almost enough to make me lose reason. I wanted to kill him… Even if Mardis deserved it, that doesn’t change my motivation. Anger. Hatred. I sighed internally and remained seated, as I offered, “Difference is, the Vrael would be merciful by comparison.”
Mardis raised his hands in doubtful gesticulation, “Genocide is genocide. Dyraqhi or Vrael. By my hands or yours. What does causality matter in such affairs? The Peqans are doomed anyway.”
“All because of you…”
He gave a half-smile, “I am just playing my part, Wanderer. I accepted this role a long time ago. All to make sure that Lehitadam went as smoothly as possible.”
I gave a harsh scowl, “What purpose do all these wickedness serve? You clearly don’t give a damn about morality or any sense of goodness, no matter how warped you would make it. You’re concerned with results. This evil isn’t just theatrics to torment the mind. There has to be a logic behind all of this.”
He closed his eyes for a few moments before admitting, “Every violation, every sorrow, every hint of throes wounds our enemy upon that Throne on High. All this sacrilege also feeds our great dragon at the center of this realm. The process of usurpation is still underway, even with all the bumps in the road. Queflar. Unna… .” A great look of perplexity appeared on his face, “That’s the part I don’t understand. I may be in on this grand conspiracy, but I don’t know everything. So why did Mazhivada choose you?”
Greater befuddlement congealed on my own face, “What? That doesn’t matter. I was chosen randomly due to an interview process by some suits.”
He corrected, “Pantheon, they call themselves. Earthly subordinates of our cause. The interview was random, yes, but they only had one person they were going to accept, who was clearly you. Why oh why would he choose a man like you? If he wanted Lehitadam to be guaranteed, then so many sheep-spawn would have been far better. But no. He chose to make YOU suffer as much pain as possible. He wanted YOU as his vessel. He desired YOU to struggle against him.” He paused, scratching his goatee, “You are not inherently special. Smarter than the average sheep, surely, but nothing extraordinary. You are still susceptible to all the abuses your kind has endured.” His head leaned back in low irritation, “I don’t know who you are. But something about you, or those related to you, was something of interest to my master. Tell me, if you would be so gracious: what are your parents?”
I cracked my knuckles and stared at him in quiet rage. I said nothing to him and instead inquired of Maghnus,
Maghnus considered these points before theorizing,
Maghnus admitted,
Mardis scowled in irritation, “Must you keep me in the dark, again?” I smirked in response, annoying him further. He grumbled through his teeth as his earpiece blared the buzzing of a wasp. Mardis transformed his face into bureaucratic compliance as he activated his microphone, “EWS?”
The jawless voice emanated from the speakers around us, “Maar’is. Ev’rytheeng es taken caaare of. Your plan wah’ked.”
Mardis breathed through his nostrils in amusement, “Very good. How is Garruz by the way?”
“He iiiiisss… Adequa’e. They seda’ed ‘iimm. They raa’ bef’re ‘ee go’ there.” I bore my fangs in great hatred of that voice.
Mardis tapped his finger on his desk exuberantly, “Well done. Thank you for ‘incentivizing’ Queflar. The Wanderer is here now.”
EWS concluded, “Goooooood. We’ll be theerrre soooon.” The line cut off as Mardis took off his earpiece and set it upon his desk.
The Chilliarch glided his fingers across themselves in glee, “So much good news today. Queflar’s rebellion is made docile. Garruz is no longer annoying me. And you? You will stop being my responsibility. I must remind you of how foolish it is to choose the meaningless path.”
I didn’t want to indulge this bastard’s conversation, but I certainly wanted to vex him more. That was the only comfort. “What makes you think the weight of your wickedness will not fall on your head?”
He gave a wretched moue, “What, like Damocles? Please. There is no absolute order to it. It sways in the wind like a balloon pendulum, swinging in the tide of what we call consequence. Israel brought Canaan to the Sword. Assyria did the same with Israel. Babylon brought Judah to the Sword. Persia did the same with Babylon. Damocles is not some divine right. It is merely the Sword of Consequence. Anyone can wield it for any reason, righteous or wicked, selfless or selfish, responsibly or irresponsibly.”
“If anything, you prove my point.”
The red donkey gave a doubtful grimace, “How so?”
“If people can choose, then they can fall under it. No matter what they do, sometimes certain dice rolls are made. Fortune or misfortune. Comedy or tragedy. Victory or failure. Every single outcome introduces new events. Life is unpredictable because of this.” I regressed into my seat, “You claim certainty, but being here in reality means that you are not truly in control. You're attempting to control the variables to force your own victory. In reality, you are ensuring your own demise.”
“Mazhivada controls the spacetime of this realm. Things pass at the speed he wants them to. Damocles is irrelevant to him, for his victory is certain,” Mardis rejected.
“Damocles spares no one.”
Mardis’s eyes gazed far into the library above, “You… Are implying something blasphemous to your own faith. I would dare say it is sacrilegious."
His point was valid, as my intent did not meet his inference. In hindsight, his insinuation turned out to be wrong. Regardless, I pressed on, “Yes. I do. And that includes you, Yolm, Maghnus, Mazhivada, Casimir, and me. Especially me.”
The Chilliarch put his hands to his face, aggravated, “No matter what you choose, you die! Whether you went on the yellow brick road or followed a trail of darkness, it ends the same. Mazhivada swallows you whole. Why do you choose something so stupid? You’re just time, pretending that your past actions against God can be ‘forgiven’. You have already done evil. There is no turning back.”
My tone lowered into remorse, “You’re right. I have done terrible things. That will never change. But what I can do is turn around from this fate. To stop being a fool.” I paused for a moment, as I gently held the cross, “I am uncertain of what will happen. You claim to be certain and use what you know as leverage. You claim that the certainty of damnation is justification to continue doing evil. Yet, your knowledge is a crutch when bound in your worldview. You believe that things will go as you want them to, pretending that Mazhivada will hold the keys to everything.” I twisted the dagger, “How do you truly know that you will succeed in achieving his goals? You are not victorious; you are all making excuses.”
Mardis erupted, “We are certain because Mazhivada has controlled everything since the First Sin! It has all been an orchestra of opulent design. Every piece has fallen into place. Everything has gone exactly as he desired it. I may be ignorant of some things, but I will have faith… That Lehitadam will set us free.”
“And what is Lehitadam? You call it liberation? Is it a mass exodus? Is it nirvana on a universal scale? And freedom from what exactly? Creation? You know what that would entail, right?” I grit my teeth in the mockery of his intellectual echo chamber.
“The Fool that is so called ‘God’ trapped us here,” Mardis relented in his fervor. “There is a place beyond here, ‘the Garden' as it is so named. Beyond time and space. Causality and suffering. A Paradise away from the Pantomime of this universe. An endless repository of knowledge. He promised us he would send us there if we aided him. Doesn’t that sound so noble, Wanderer? Peace. Happiness. Eternity. Was it not the allure of that place that sent you on this path?”
I recalled that seemingly ancient detail upon black parchment, “The Heart of Existence…”
“So you understand? That desire for knowledge, if nothing else. I tell you, for every lie that God has told, Mazhivada has doubled his bounty of truth.”
“And how do you know that?” Doubt strained my face.
Like a fanatic, Mardis commented in repeated rhetoric, “Because Mazhivada has kept every single promise he has made. He has predicted everything the Fool would ever do. He has made sure that we will be taken care of.”
Maghnus and I recoiled in animosity, as I realized,
I challenged Mardis’s logic, “How would you know Mazhivada has kept his promises? You know of his manipulations. You know he lies to others. You know of the suffering he demands. You are acting as if you are exempt from that. You and your abominable court of jackasses are not exceptions. You are all living proof of his logos in action.” Mardis shook violently as his arteries dilated. I shot down his coming dogmatic rebuttal, as I proclaimed, “Your anger proves my point. You are all fools being led to the slaughter.”
Mardis snapped, as his fist burst through his desk, as splinters of elm collapsed on the floor below, “This is madness, Wanderer! To think that your foolishness would come this far already! You are not educated. You are not well-read. You are not a man. You are merely a hopeless wastrel wandering along a darkened path that leads to death. Those drugs that sent you here will kill you anyway! What is the point?!”
I smirked in mild smugness; Maghnus and I uttered in the same voice, “We are all doing what we want. For now? Irritating you is enough satisfaction.”
“How stupidly annoying…” He bleated in exhaustion. “Then again, what am I trying to do here, to convince you away from what Mazhivada wants? He wants you to struggle. He wants you to have false hope. He wants you to be in pain. And for what he has in mind for you? What was it he said, gentlemen? Something about a funeral pyre?” He snapped his left fingers.
“‘Gentlemen?’” I blurted. I then noticed the intensified stench of mold, “Oh, son of a bitch…” I rapidly ascended from my chair, but was then swiftly plunged into the wood panelling below by wretched witchcraft from the two Eggmen. Splinters embedded themselves in my head as I groaned from the mild pain.
Mardis descended from his chair and approached me in indignation, “What did I tell you? Standing made it more difficult. Now I have to get new floorboards… EWS, I consider our deal done?”
The Eggman’s magic collapsed me into a singular prism of eggshells. My senses started to dwindle. Mumbling in the darkening thoughts, I made out, “Yesssss. You shalllll haaaaave your seeeeeeeaataaah.”
Mardis’s voice descended into a glissando, “Enjoy yourself in the Albumen, Wanderer. Don't lose your head...” Mardis chuckled as he retreated into his bedroom. Darkness grew and grew, as my senses waned more and more.
Maghnus rebelled despite this, “MARDIS! When the rebellion comes for your head, I promise you will understand! You will know the taste of death soon, you coward! Your flesh is rust, and your blood is tar! You will drown in that damn pool!”
Mardis shook his head in vexation, “My, my. You sure make noise, Maghnus. Gentlemen? Make sure they get their dues...” As before and as of then, he repeated that appropriated phrase: "So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past." The narrative against us remains.
The prism collapsed further.
I am floating. A dark cloud in space. Drifting along the current.
…
My face burns. Dizziness. The faintest whispers.
-You sure he’s alive?
-Oh, he’s alive. Just sleeping like his buddy was. And will again, come to think of it.
What is a ‘buddy’? Flakes in the desert. I recognize these voices. Eggmen. ODT. DRQ. Damn it. I remember now.
-Stop you, idiot. You want to wake a horse-shit up? Let me show you. Remember this for when you are fermented enough like me.
Cold. COLD! Why is it so damn cold?!
I startle awake. My neck and arms are chained to the soot ceiling. My legs are anchored to the white shell below.
A white sapphire prison.
-There he is! Now, Garruz, smile for the camera!
DRQ, what in Rathaph’s… No. That was all a lie, wasn’t it? At least, was. Damnable Mardis. We have failed. The Peqans will become pawns, as they have always been.
-Garr-uz! Smi-le. For. The Came-ra.
Obnoxious opaque roe!
-That’s not a smile… That’s a snarl…
-If I weren’t chained, I would beat you into a pulp, you depraved egg!
-Oh, wouldn’t that be an experience! You taunt me, you beast!
-Enough DRQ. We just need footage of him awake.
-Boss, where’s the fun in that? The limp horse-cock should be teased a little, I believe.
-I know you want to slobber on something, but don’t taint the evidence yet. Go and wait. You too, ODT.
-Boo. Fine. But I will have my fun.
-Shut up, DRQ. Come on. Let’s leave them be.
-Thank you, ODT. Now then, with the seductress out of the way, we can focus on silencing some radicals.
-EWS… I thought all of you were male.
-Most of us are designed that way, yes. DRQ is an anomaly. Carved and cut itself a new way of life, so to speak.
Soil fills my lungs.
-I despise you rot.
-Oh, I understand why you care. But now you don’t have a say. You’re our bargaining chip, see? To make sure Queflar doesn’t disrupt anything else.
-Queflar, the rebel? I wanted to kill that bastard for years! Why would I be a "bargaining chip” for him?
-Wouldn’t you like to know?
-Either stay silent or speak. Your taunts are wasting my time.
-You are a prisoner. You are OURS. Your time is meaningless. Show me your pretty yellow-stained teeth all you want. Can you break those chains, I wonder?-
No. I can’t. I bow my head in shame. My tongue is sand.
-Now, I believe that is enough. Queflar? I believe we have arrangements to make.
Muffled voice. It sounds familiar. Why?
-Curse me all you want, Queflar. You keep your bastards and bitches from doing anything else, and he won’t die. You understand?
Why does my life matter to Queflar? It doesn’t make sense. I have been his enemy for several centuries.
-Look at him.
His talons stab into my chin.
-You don't want anything drastic to happen. So, I highly suggest shutting the fuck up, keeping your whore-wife away from our stuff, and prancing your little soldiers out of Mardis’s shit. Keep the whores you already stole. Mardis has plenty in storage.
Fabincillas? In storage? I thought all Peqans were born in the barns. Was that another lie? One of his many, the rustic midget.
-Good. We’ll make sure he doesn’t die so long as you don’t do anything stupid. I bid you farewell, Queflar.
A hardlight interface congeals in the air. Contact established.
-Mardis. Everything is taken care of. Your plan worked.
Of course, you planned all this, you donkey. Ever since we got the Wanderer, it was all a damn game. I was a fool to ever trust your false name.
-He is… Adequate. They sedated him. They ran before we got there.
Sedated… So they did want to capture me. To execute me? Most likely, though, this is their first major operation in decades. Even then, that goes against why Queflar wants me alive. Either way, it was all timed perfectly with Maghnus’s slumber…
Oh. I see now. So that’s why he fell. The restoration failed.
Like salt upon my skin. Inevitable.
-Good. We’ll be there soon.
Contact terminated. What a grotesque, jagged smile.
-A couple of us will be back shortly, Garruz. ODT? We need to run a little errand to get the other one.
Your eyes close in. They droop as molten glass. What a stench! Mold!
-We’re getting you a playmate. We can’t have you suffering alone, now. DRQ? Enjoy yourself.
-With pleasure.
Bring all the pain you can… No… Humiliation. I know of DRQ's depravity. Abomination. My life is meaningless now. I have failed my people. And now I have failed Maghnus… No. He is Pahle.
Ahrius was right again. He will never be Maghnus.
I was chasing an ideal. One that my father made me want to follow.
I know he was unremarkable compared to me. But he still raised me, did he not? And yet I killed him. I killed my father… I was taught to believe that was right.
I still do, but why do I? What of all the other customs of the Peqans? How many were true? How many were false? When Rathaph himself was a lie, what of his Words and all that followed?
Does it matter anymore? If they were right, then I have no reason to change. If they were wrong, then I deserve this defilement.
Perhaps that is what this all is. Punishment.
Let my viscera run, as I swallow the sunlight.
…
Maghnus declined coldly,
Our thoughts drifted for some time in that senseless darkness.
For once, Maghnus broke the silence with unfamiliar politeness,
Maghnus rejected the thought,
I anticipated his question,
I pondered this question for some time. My memories flickered past like a broken film reel. What was the central motivation? Childhood naivety? Terminal isolation? Communion? No… It was none of those things. I landed on the best answer I could, at the time:
Maghnus sighed abruptly,
Maghnus was silent for a few seconds before he burst into laughter. In his bellows, he commented,
He deflected,
I gave a metaphorical smirk as heat rose upon our faces. Senses began to return. The night falls. Lukewarm skin. Parched throat. Stinging eyes. Sore muscles. And—
SLAP.
…
I wheezed violently with the harsh awakening. The putrescent yellow light of the oblong cockpit was a fly’s eye socket. The rest of the vehicle reverberated with the scuttling of grumbles of iridescent maggots cycling through the lights and interfaces. Millions or trillions of them in succession, all in a constant race for a meaningless mission. The ceiling was a darkened firmament, whose very skin detailed deception within the stars. The floor was a heptagonal array of eggshell-white tiles, each inherently clandestine. The outside of the vessel was a bulbous, wart-like, yet corrugated sack.
The lotionless skin of Gaia. And so I return to how this all started.
My neck and arms were stiff in the rusted and grime-stained chains, all of which were bolted into the void above. My ankles and legs were fettered upon that nothing below. I was surrounded by a white jail-cell egg. The number above was almost the exact same as the one back on Earth: 205.
Three Eggmen were before me. To the left was one like salmon roe, a congregation of grapes with shared skin; it had a noticeably gargantuan mouth, which was constantly open with rivers of its violet yolk falling like waterfalls; its eyes were but constantly revolving shapes, and were currently perverse hearts. To the right was a spider egg, one of complete silk wrapping around its jello-like verdant yolk; it was akin to a doll whose mouth and eyes were sewn with mercury stitching. And then that old piece of shit, EWS-12. Black goose egg with a crimson yolk, jagged eyes and fangs, and a defiled mannerism.
“Heeee’s aw-aaaake!” I grimaced and grumbled at the auditory torture from the salmon roe. “Whyyyy doooo yoouuu alllll geeeeve me that looooo’? I am jus’ tryiiiinnn’ to beee friendl’!”
EWS was already difficult enough to deal with. This?! This was drilling my ears with a jackhammer by comparison.
EWS pushed his brethren to the side with his great calcium hand, as his abominable scent punctured my nostrils. His smooth hands gripped my cheeks as his disgusting voice declared, “Ohhhh, be’o’ed. We’come haaahme.” My face filled with rage, which amused EWS, “Such a naugh’y scowl. We will ha’ to fi’ thaaaaat. DRQ? Do u’to him what wa’ do’e to hiiiiiis… Friend.” EWS backed away and laughed heartily, calling his other spider-silk confidant with him. They exited the claustrophobic room, as DRQ… As DRQ…
No. I can do this… I can do this much…
The vile salmon roe licked its slackened maw, as… As it… Exposed itself to the orifice it had carved for itself. With a mocking dereliction, the opaque roe bubbled with delight, “Let me fini’h what that demon star’ed, my sweeeeeeet.”
My eyes widened in traumatic horror as I battled the chains and attempted to release myself with stagnant bones. It was no use. I was… Sedated. I was bound… AGAIN.
For the first time, Maghnus had also screamed in terror,
I turned to our other confidant. pleading voraciously,
An immense pressure built, as the abyss returned:
Nalthephus giggled with abyssal subsidence, as he bellowed the pettiest of justifications:
DRQ, in rampant toxicity, went under me and announced, “Yoooou wiiiiilllll loooove thiiiiiissss.”
The horsehairs were severed. The consequences had festered. My joy was dissolved.
I was ruined again.
Yet I was still there.
I remained.
This would not break me; I was a shattered hourglass already!
What arose instead was a thought. A pyre in the core of my mind. It was not shame or fear or anguish. It was pure enmity within my Anubian promise:
|For all the wickedness of these abominations, they must die.|
As I begin to recall the horrors of those… Damn it...
God… Be close to me tonight… Please... The strain has still not left me. The anger has not either. The pain joins them in the death choir of brimstone lullabies.
Mom.
Dad.
I am sorry.
Albidine:
Pyrrhine.
Icterine.
Fuligine.
Hyasyntheia.
Rosacaea
Albidine King.
Heart
Biliverdine King.
Steward.
A Rose, a Scarab, and a Story.
Brahmatic Whole, was not immune to its madness.