In Our Bones

[Pahrak Model ZX]

[An Okoto 579 Story]

 

The First Break

 

 

Protector Nikila raised her trident, signaling the villagers behind her to halt.  Before them loomed the Temple of Time, its subtle blue radiance conveying some vague omen to them as it spoke through the steady tick tock of its swinging pendulum.  The night sky above was clear save for a few wisp-like clouds that rose up alongside the glowing pillar that originated from the Temple.  As it climbed, the pillar pointed to six planets visible in the distance, the space between them and the light growing smaller ever so gradually.  The alignment was nigh.

 

She turned to face her party, composed of villagers from all six Regions.  “Keep watch over the sky.  We must not let them claim another spirit, or it will be the end of us all!”

 

Nikila tugged on her brown cloak, and then pressed on towards the Temple.  As they came upon its base, the villagers could see another group moving in from the opposite side of the slope: each member was tall, at least twice the height of the villagers, and seemed made entirely of muscle.  Their armor varied, but each suit gleamed as if it hungered for battle, and all carried a weapon of some kind that seemed just as vicious.

 

At the head of this group was one who towered even above his companions.  His torso alone was larger than a whole villager, and his armor was blacker than darkness with blood-red lines running through the main plates like veins.  In one hand he carried a shortsword, and in the other a tall, three-pronged staff that looked as if it could rip the heart from a being mid-breath.  He wore a horned silver helmet made to resemble a skull, and as one looked into his blazing orange eyes, it was like staring directly into the unrelenting face of death.

 

His name was Spiriah.  But the villagers knew and feared him by another name: the Skull Grinder.

 

Spiriah stopped just short of the Temple’s doors and planted his staff in the ground.  He spoke slowly, his voice coarse and smooth at once.  “Wuhuhahaha…so, you are what passes as a leader in those primitive settlements from the lowlands?  How truly fearsome.”

 

A chortle rippled through his party.  Nikila halted not far from him, holding her head high.  “I am Nikila, Protector of Ice.  I have been selected by the tribes of Okoto to direct this Spirit Hunt.”

 

Spiriah cocked his head.  “Protector, you say?  Is that what you’ve begun to call yourselves?  I suppose it fitting, seeing as defense is all you can muster.”

 

Nikila looked up at the Temple.  “It has proven enough thus far.”

 

“Oh-hoh!  Such backbone for a lowlander.  You truly believe you can steal this spirit from me, don’t you?”

 

“We have as much chance as you, and far more drive.”

 

“Drive?  Desperation is its name.”

 

Spiriah took a step forward and leaned.  The sun had begun to rise, casting just enough light that his shadow fell upon Nikila.  “When I succeed here today, my City shall have two great weapons while your villages have not even one between you.  Then, I shall be able to destroy you all at my leisure.”

 

Nikila looked up into his masked face, not shaken in the least.  “The spirits are gifts, sent to our humble realm from beyond the reaches of time by forces we can never hope to comprehend.  Treat them as weapons, and you shall never know their full potential.”

 

Spiriah leaned back and laughed.  His armor rattled with each heave of his chest.  “You lowlanders always say the most amusing things.  The fantastic tales you weave to escape your harsh reality…perhaps I shall have them preserved, once there are none of you left to repeat them.”

 

A crack in the air drew their attention.  Far above, the planets had begun to line up with the Temple’s pillar, which now wreathed itself in an electric aura.  Those assembled all gazed up at it, each feeling their own unique mix of anticipation, awe, and dread.

 

The hill fell silent.  The planets moved together slowly, slowly, until finally, for just a moment, they formed a straight line from the Temple and up into eternity.  Some unspeakable power surged down the pillar of light and directly into the structure.  The Temple shook ferociously, its pendulum stopping completely at its high point for a short time, and then swinging back through the building and out the other side with an earsplitting clunk.  The energy was shot back into the sky, knocking the planets out of the pillar and back into their orbits, going up and up and up until it vanished from existence.

 

Then there was a tiny dot of orange light, so faint that it was easy to lose in the shine of the pillar.  But it grew brighter, and larger, trailing fire behind it as it fell towards Okoto.  Every eye was trained on it, trying to imagine where it would land.  It swerved to one side as it completed its descent, ultimately crashing in the Region of Water and spilling a large plume of smoke into the air.

 

Instantly they broke into a sprint.  All those at the Temple of Time sprang forward, the two parties separating but both advancing towards the already-waning sigil on the horizon, all hurrying, all hoping that their allies already near the Region would be able to subdue the new arrival before their enemies could get there.

 

***

 

The Lord of Skull Spiders trudged across the blue-green marshland, his movements slow and purposeless.  When he had emerged from the crater, he had found that he had very few memories—he knew his name, he knew that there were smaller Skull Spiders and that they were his to command, and he knew what physical needs he would have to fulfill if he wanted to stay alive.  Everything else was a blank.

 

Since then, he had learned that he hated marshes.  But, somehow that achievement seemed less than noteworthy.

 

He continued his trek towards the mountains in the distance, for they seemed more inviting than the ocean in the opposite direction, the cold, white lands to the north, and the even denser marshes to the south.  He knew not what he would do when he got there, but he felt that being out of this detestable swamp would be rewarding enough on its own.

 

A shriek caught his attention.  Approaching from the southwest was a creature roughly the same size as him, a scorpion.  It had six long, slender legs that carried it forward with surprising swiftness, and a ridged, faintly-glowing green shell covering its back.  Aside from that shell it was lightly armored, nearly skeletal in fact, a perception that was only strengthened by the skull-like appearance of its face.  It drew closer, snapping the two claws at the front of its body as well as the massive claw on the end of its tail where a stinger should have been.

 

The Skull Scorpion charged, staring down the Lord of Skull Spiders with other-worldly focus.  When the Spider finally realized he was not slowing down, he spat a burst of webbing as a warning, snagging one of the Scorpion’s feet and making it stick to the ground.  The Scorpion paused a moment to examine the substance, and then ripped itself free and resumed its course.  The Spider stood his ground.

 

The Scorpion stopped in front of the Spider and shrieked again, slowly waving its foreclaws.  It turned and jabbed its tail towards the mountains, and then turned back to the Spider as if expecting a response.  The Spider didn’t understand.  He tried to move around the Scorpion, but the Scorpion cut him off and repeated the gesture with his tail.  The Spider spat webbing in the Scorpion’s face and continued on his way.

 

He had not made it far when the Scorpion’s tail claw clamped around him.  The sudden pain stunned him, and he was lifted into the air and slammed back down.  The Scorpion removed the webs from his face and shrieked furiously.  The marshy ground softened the blow (at last, one advantage to this wretched landscape), and the Spider was able to slip free and bound away.  The Scorpion followed, swiping at the Spider’s legs when he came close enough.  Shaking off the blow, the Spider whirled and headbutted the Scorpion, and then sprang upon the back of his dazed foe and clamped on.

 

The Scorpion reared back and shook, unable to loosen his opponent’s grip.  When he felt the Spider began to web up his tail claw, he flopped on his side and rolled over, ending up with the Spider pinned beneath him, upside down in a large puddle.  The Spider flailed his way out from under the Scorpion, gasping for air, and then was flattened by another strike from the other creature’s tail.  Pausing to stomp on the Spider, the Scorpion lowered its tail and picked the webbing off its claw, and then it beat its captive with its foreclaws and shrieked victoriously.

 

But the Spider wasn’t done yet.  He jabbed one leg into the Scorpion’s face, allowing him to break free, and then caught the Scorpion’s tail with a strand of webbing and pulled.  The Scorpion was spun around and dragged back; the Spider bit the base of his tail, and then jumped away while he cried out in pain.  He jumped a few more times before sinking into the mud.  The Scorpion was charging again, so the Spider shot another strand of web at his tail.  It latched on, but before the Spider could do anything, the Scorpion pulled hard, drawing the Spider through the air and directly into the clawed tail.

 

As the Scorpion began driving its foe into the ground several times, a new face appeared over the nearby hill.  A tall figure clad in bright green armor slowly marched through the wetlands, his scowling face angled towards the ground.  Three of his arms held a shortsword while the fourth carried an orange chain, which was currently coiled up around his wrist.

 

“Obnoxious lowlanders,” Orkahm muttered to himself.  “What do they know?”

 

He looked up.  Upon seeing the two creatures fighting, he stopped and stared a moment.  His scowl became a grin.

Running towards the duel, Orkahm called, “Great Scorpion!  If I may, allow me to lend my assistance!”

 

The Skull Scorpion turned towards his voice.  Recognizing him as one of Spiriah’s Generals, he tossed the Lord of Skull Spiders in his direction, glad to have some help in subduing the aggressive beast.

 

Orkahm unraveled his chain and threw it.  The clawed end clamped onto the Spider’s leg just as he landed; the Spider swung it viciously to try to shake the tool off, but Orkahm used the momentum to swing around and land on his back.  Orkahm wrapped his legs around the Spider and looped the chain around his head, fighting for a secure hold as he began to buck.  The Spider was stronger than he had anticipated, and he could feel himself slipping; emptying his mind, he called upon his knowledge of the mystic and let new energy flow into his body, granting him strength enough to hang on to the wild spirit as it thrashed about.  The Scorpion had caught up now—a hit from one of his foreclaws prompted the Spider to stop.

 

“Our apologies for the rude introduction, honorable spirit,” Orkahm said in a low voice.  “I know you must be very confused.  This realm is no doubt quite different from your home; many spirits such as yourself become quite shocked until they adjust.  We have no wish to harm you.  In fact, we wish to provide you with a new home, if you would like one.”

 

The Lord of Skull Spiders stood still.  He made a sound, but Orkahm didn’t react.  Another irritation, he thought—he could understand the man-spider, but it seemed the man-spider could not understand him.  He looked to the Skull Scorpion and made the sound again.  As he thought, the Scorpion did not understand him either.  It would be difficult to join a “home” where none could understand him, but fighting them both seemed unwise.  Perhaps, just for now, he would obey them.  Something deep within him said it was the right choice.

 

The Spider lowered his body to the ground, hoping that would be clear enough.  Orkahm understood, and so he removed the chain and climbed off the Spider’s back.  With a smile, he said, “My name is Orkahm.  This is the Skull Scorpion, a spirit sent from the same realm as you who has watched over our tribe for 100,000 years now.”

 

The two creatures’ gazes met.

 

“My people live in a great City high in the mountains.  I would be honored if you would allow me to lead you there.”

 

Slowly, the Spider stood up.  Orkahm turned and walked towards the mountains, and the Lord of Skull Spiders and the Skull Scorpion filed behind him.  Soon, the Spider thought, these marshes would be behind him forever.

 

***

 

Nikila surveyed the land and frowned.  She waved to the villagers still with her, shouting orders to split up and comb over different parts of the Region.

 

Where could it be…

 

She walked upriver, keeping an eye out for any sign of the spirit.  Just as she considered doubling back, she came upon a delta and spotted none other than Spiriah standing on the banks.  In front of him were Orkahm and the Skull Scorpion, and just behind them was the Lord of Skull Spiders.

 

Nikila froze.  No…no, this cannot be!

 

Spiriah looked down at the Spider, chuckling in delight.  “Well done, Orkahm.  I would say you have earned your keep.”

 

Orkahm bowed.  “Thank you, sir.”

 

Nikila rushed towards the party, and struck the ground with her trident to get their attention.  “Spiriah!”

 

Spiriah laughed, not bothering to look at her.  “Ah, the leader of the lowlanders.  Have you come to see my newest recruit?”

 

“You only subdued that spirit because you sent another spirit to find it.  This is a violation of the terms we agreed upon!”

 

Spiriah looked over his shoulder, his apathy more than enough to carry through his helmet.  “And so what if it is?  I chose to use all resources available to me.  Would you not do the same?”

 

“I would not cheat and lie for my own selfish gain, certainly!  To think you would resort to such treachery.”

 

Spiriah ignored her.  Stepping forward, Nikila added, “Perhaps you employ these underhanded tactics because your assertions of your people’s superiority are something not even you truly believe?”

 

Spiriah’s head jerked.  Orkahm and the Skull Scorpion backed away as he strode towards Nikila, coming uncomfortably close and kneeling down with his helmet inches from her face, eyes alight with unbridled disgust.

 

“The reason I care not for our agreement, lowlander, is because I see no gain in abiding by rules put forth by worms.  You and your laws are beneath me.  Had you a way to stop me, then I may have been inclined to think twice.  But we both know that you do not.  So what have I to fear?  The anger of a speck of dust is nothing to me.”

 

Not waiting for a reply, he stood and set off for his City.  Orkahm and the two creatures followed behind him, leaving Nikila to glare at them alone as they shrank into the distance, wondering how she and the other Protectors could have any hope of defending their people now.

 

 

Review

Edited September 26, 2015 by Pahrak #0579

[Pahrak Model ZX]

The Second Break

 

 

The white-armored warrior adjusted her skull-shaped helmet and raced down the empty street, barely able to hold on to the large bow slung across her back.  Short buildings made of brown stone zipped past her, and she eventually came to an open square made of stone tiles; in front of her was a long staircase leading up to a monolithic structure carved into the mountain itself, its shape reminiscent of an anvil.  It rose high above all the rest of the City, insisting that it be the only one allowed to keep watch over the metropolis.

 

I’m really cutting it close.

 

She called out to the mystic energy around her.  After taking it in, she focused it in her legs, crouched, and sprang, executing a fantastic leap that took her about a quarter of the way up the staircase.  A few more jumps and she was at the doors, where she took a deep breath and grabbed one of the metal knockers.

 

When the door swung inward, it was Orkahm who greeted her, a silver Skull Spider perched on his shoulder.  “The newcomer, I presume?  Right on time.”

 

“Yes, sir,” she said, bowing.  “My name is Lariska.  I received orders from Lord Spiriah to come here—“

 

“For a mission, yes,” Orkahm said, stepping aside and gesturing her in.  “I’m here to assist in the briefing.  This way, if you please.”

 

Lariska stepped in and waited for Orkahm to close the door.  “Excuse me, sir, but…there appears to be a spider?”

 

The Skull Spider turned and watched her.  Orkahm said, “I am aware.  This is Pewku, my oldest friend.”

 

“…I see.”

 

“You don’t have a problem with Skull Spiders, do you?”

 

“Oh, no, sir.  My mistake, sir.”

 

“Very good.  Come along.”

 

The hall was made of gray brick and lit with both torches and glowing yellow crystals.  Orkahm led her up a few more stairs and around a curved hall, and before long they came upon a wooden door.  Beyond lay a wide circular chamber with a depressed center, the far wall open with a few pillars to support the roof.  Through this opening could be seen the entire City, a birds-eye view of the settlement and the mist-cloaked mountains that rose behind it.

 

Standing near the entrance to the chamber was a figure about a foot taller than Lariska and encased in a thick shell of black and purple armor, with two purple horns that came forward from the sides of her skull helmet and rose up sharply.  She adjusted the twin axes leaning against the wall next to her and then spotted Lariska.  With a grin, she approached.

 

“So you’re Lariska?”  Her voice sounded like an intonated grunt.  “About time the academy spat out someone we can use.”

 

“Yes, ma’am.  It is an honor to meet you, General Dalu.”

 

Dalu squinted.  “I gotta say though, you’re not as bulky as I expected.  Hiding your muscles under your armor or something?”

 

“No, ma’am.  I’ve found that I perform best when my strategy focuses more on swift movement, and so I’ve made attempts to reduce my bulk as much as possible to further enhance those results.”

 

Dalu crossed her arms, nodding once.  “Hmph.  Can’t say I get it, but all I’ve heard is good, so you must have figured it out.  Anyway.”

 

Turning around, she called, “Spiriah!  She’s here!”

 

Lariska looked past her at a gold-plated cannon about her height resting on the opposite side of the depression.  Spiriah stood up from behind it, his head slowly rising above the gleaming artillery to take note of her.

 

“Sir!  Lariska, reporting for orders, Lord Spiriah.”

 

Spiriah stepped out from behind the cannon and came closer.  “Be at ease.  I would not have sent for you if I did not already have faith in your ability.”

 

A scraping sound drew their attention to the open wall.  The Lord of Skull Spiders descended on a strand of web, shrieking as if he wished to report something.

 

“We shall see to it, Lord Spiriah,” Orkahm said, already walking towards the spider.

 

As he came closer, Pewku crawled from his shoulder onto his face, gently clamping on with her legs.  The Lord made a series of sounds, to which Orkahm replied, “Regardless, Great Spider, you and the Great Scorpion remain the only ones who can clear that debris.”

 

They began to go back and forth like this.  Lariska wondered, Does the small one serve as a translator?

 

“It appears I must be brief,” Spiriah said.  “Lariska.  You are to depart as soon as possible for an extended scouting mission in the Jungle Region.  It will be your duty to both survey the landscape and to observe the villagers, learning as much as you can about their weaknesses and military strategies without revealing yourself.  Another war may start at any moment, and I will need as much information as possible if we are to eliminate those base lowlanders once and for all.”

 

Dalu snorted.  “Or we could just smash ‘em.”

 

“As I have said previously, Dalu, the smashing tactic is best employed when it can be done quickly and efficiently.  Even the lowlanders can get lucky, and I won’t see any of my people fall.  In order to do take due precaution, we require information.  Taking into consideration that you are not one for stealth, and Orkahm is…otherwise occupied…”

 

Spiriah paused to look at the other General, who was telling the Lord of Skull Spiders, “Boring?  I apologize if it seems tedious, Great Spider, but these efforts are quite necessary, I assure you.”

 

Looking back to Lariska, he finished, “We find ourselves in need of a new recruit.  And I believe she who earned the most promising assessment of the decade would be the most logical choice, yes?”

 

Dalu shrugged and nodded.  Lariska tried to contain her excitement, saying, “Thank you very much, Lord Spiriah.  You honor me with your words.”

 

Spiriah moved back towards the cannon and picked a rolled up paper off the floor.  Offering it to Lariska, he said, “This is our most up-to-date map of the Region.  Should you encounter inaccuracies or gaps, you are to amend it, and the changes will be turned over to our mapmakers upon your return.”

 

Lariska took the map.  “Yes, Lord Spiriah.  I will gather as much intel as possible.”

 

“Indeed.  You will return to the City in exactly six months, though we may correspond via Skull Spider before then.  I expect great things from you, Lariska.  Now, be off.”

 

***

 

The green-armored villager cocked his head, eyes darting back and forth across the underside of the jungle canopy.  Thick tree trunks rose up from all sides, reaching out to each other with their leafy vines and linking up to form a series of living green webs that subtly vibrated as birds and other unseen animals flitted from one side to the other.  A gentle breeze blew, rocking the ferns that lined his pathway, and up ahead, his yellow companion stopped to look back at him.

 

“What is it, Defilak?”

 

Defilak raised one finger.  He slowly reached towards the quiver of arrows on his back, waited a few seconds, and then let his arm fall.

 

“Nothing but my imagination.  Sorry, Tanma.”

 

He ran forward.  “Anyway, we should be close now, don’t you think?”

 

Tanma knelt and touched the ground, slowly running his fingers through the dirt.  “I think so.  The footprints aren’t very clear, but I can make them out.  We should be able to catch it before sundown.”

 

The villagers pushed their way through the foliage.  The vines above shook as well as a figure moved between them, shrouded by the dense plant life and out of the sight of the hunters.  As she landed on a branch, Lariska silently dug her fingers into the side of the tree, watching her targets journey deeper into the jungle.

 

The archer is sharp.  I’ll need to be more careful.

 

She drew the map from her bag and unrolled it.  She had scrawled all over it in the months since her arrival, ranging from glaring errors to notes on small details the mapmaker would probably end up overlooking; the hunters had been following the path of a large bear for about a day now, and both they and she had a good idea of where it was headed.

 

The caves a few miles to the West are right along a river—that’s probably where its den is.  Though, there’s no way of knowing if any other bears live in that area…they wouldn’t really follow it into the caves, would they?

 

She shook her head and started rolling the map.

 

It doesn’t matter.  If the villagers are stupid enough to make a move like that, then it’ll be even easier to eliminate them.

 

With the map secure in her bag, she resumed her push forward, though she couldn’t help but feel troubled.

 

The villagers had been very easy to observe.  They kept a reasonably strong guard at their border (not that she hadn’t been able to slip in when necessary), but hunters departed and returned nearly every day, giving her plenty of chances to observe them work.  The hunters and guards held the highest positions, second only to the Protector.  In truth, it wasn’t very different from the castes of the City in that regard, although the focus of these lowland groups was primarily on sustaining the village as opposed to training for combat.  There were also plenty of tradesmen and farmers, though they hung mostly around the designated market district unless called upon for a task elsewhere; even if they weren’t considered quite as highly as the capable fighters, these people will still treated generally with respect, and the Protector chastised any they saw behaving otherwise.  Each month a forum was held and villagers could come forward with any complaints or suggestions they had, which the Protector would usually try to address in some fashion.  Overall, the whole village seemed very close-knit and had a lighthearted air to it.

 

They don’t seem like bad people.  So, why does Lord Spiriah want to destroy them?

 

Of course, it was certainly not her place to question Spiriah.  The brilliant warrior and inventor had governed the City since long before she was born—the only one who might have the power to challenge him would be Dalu, if she were not his oldest and closest General.  His accomplishments were legendary, and the City owed him much.  Though Lariska had known only peace in her life, she had been taught from an early age that the greatest honor she could attain was to serve in the City’s military, to live, fight, and die for her home and Spiriah’s glorious vision of an Okoto free from the filthy lowlanders.

 

Lord Spiriah has our best interests in mind.  He must, if he has remained in power for so long.  We are a warrior race blessed by the mystic—Okoto is our birthright.  These villagers…

 

She stopped on the branch of another tree and peered around it.  Just ahead she could see Defilak and Tanma sitting on a fallen log, laughing together as Tanma shook berries from the bush next to them.  Defilak waved his arms and shouted something.  Tanma pushed him off the log and started eating the berries, smiling but ignoring Defilak when he got up and shook his fist.  Lariska closed her eyes.

 

…they…don’t deserve to be here.

 

She reminded herself that less than a month remained before she could return home.  For some reason, she felt relief at that thought.

 

When the villagers had finished resting, they continued West until the trees thinned and eventually gave way to open air.  The grasses rose to brush against their knees, and just a few meters out could be seen the bend of a clear, fast-flowing river.  Lariska hung back at the edge of the trees and watched as they pointed to a long but relatively low rock formation a bit downriver.  In one side was a large opening, and the orange-armored bear could be seen lying inside.  It was massive, far taller than the villagers and longer than the two of them set end to end.  Even Lariska felt wary as she eyed the creature.

 

Defilak grabbed an arrow and strung his bow.  Nodding to Tanma, he strafed down the edge of the river, while Tanma drew his two slender iron swords and approached directly.  The bear spotted them.  Rising to its feet, it growled at the intruders.

 

Oh no…

 

Tanma angled one sword to shine light in the bear’s eyes.  It flinched, roared, and charged at him.  He continued his calm approach, not hesitating for an instant.  As the bear was almost upon him, Defilak loosed his arrow; it pierced the armor on the bear’s shoulder, making it stumble to the opposite side.  Tanma lunged in the same direction.  The bear overcorrected and rushed right past Tanma, taking two long but shallow cuts along its side.  Tanma ducked into the grass before the bear turned around.  Unable to locate him, the bear turned back to Defilak, who shot an arrow into one of its forelegs.  It roared again and prepared to charge, when Tanma sprang up and cut into the calves of its rear legs.

 

“Shall I leave the rest to you, Tanma?” Defilak called, lowering his bow.

 

He heard a roar from behind him.  Turning, he was struck across the face by the paw of a second bear, sending him sprawling and spilling the contents of his quiver into the mud.

 

“Defilak!”

 

Tanma started across the field.  The first bear spun and tackled him with its good shoulder.  It swiped at him—he regained his balance in time to cut its paw, and then leapt onto the bear’s back.  He flipped over, plunged both swords into the bear, braced his foot against a ridge in its armor, and pushed the blades forward and out through the bear’s neck, making it collapse with a pained rumble.

 

Meanwhile, the other bear had Defilak pinned.  He had wedged his bow between its jaws and was barely holding its head back, but it was now raising its free paw in preparation to bash his skull in.  Tanma was racing in that direction, but he was too far away.

 

A crack rang out.

 

A bolt of white energy flew out of the trees and straight through the bear’s head.  It fell upon Defilak, who was stunned but otherwise unharmed.  Tanma stumbled from shock, but then resumed his run, and helped roll the dead beast off of his friend.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

 

“I’m…fine,” Defilak gasped.  “But, what was that?”

 

Lariska looked at the bow in her hands.  …Why?  Why did I do that?!

 

Tanma turned towards the trees.  “A shot like that could only come from…one of the weapons used by that City.”

 

He stood and brandished his swords.  “Defilak, we’re not alone!  Can you find an arrow?”

 

Defilak began sifting through the mud.  Lariska slung the bow over her shoulder and leapt to another tree.  Unfortunately, this alerted Tanma to her presence; he made a bolt in her direction, staying low so that he could barely be seen above the grass.

 

No point in being slow then.

 

Charging her legs with energy, she launched off of the tree with enough force that it shattered behind her.  She tore out of the jungle and landed atop the rock formation, pausing to look at the villagers and wonder why she wasn’t just killing them, which would end the problem then and there.  Tanma saw her.  Defilak locked eyes with her for a second, not sure what to do with the grimy arrow in his hand.  Then she made another bound and was out of their sight.

 

***

 

Lariska stood in the chamber where she had first met Spiriah and his Generals, now with her eyes fixed on the floor as the three of them stared her down.

 

Spiriah turned to Orkahm.  “Report to the Chief Mapmaker.  Tell her I want enough copies of the revised map ready to outfit at least one company in four days’ time.”

 

Orkahm, seemingly lost in thought, snapped to attention upon hearing the order.  Pewku grabbed the map in her mouth and scuttled up Orkahm’s leg to reach his shoulder, and once she was safely there he made his exit.

 

Next Spiriah faced Dalu.  “Please visit the barracks.  I wish for our troops to be made ready.”

 

Dalu smirked.  “You don’t have to tell me twice.”

 

She walked out, pausing only to lightly hit Lariska’s shoulder.  Lariska hesitantly looked up at Spiriah.  He stood with his back to her, looking out over the dusky City, and said nothing.

 

“…I…I apologize again, Lord Spiriah,” she said.  “I will accept whatever judgment you deem appropriate.”

 

Spiriah looked over his shoulder.  “Judgment?  Truthfully, I feel as though I shall withhold my judgment.”

 

Lariska gaped.

 

“Your mission was, for the most part, quite successful,” Spiriah said, taking a few lumbering steps across the room.  “You have provided us with a significant update to our map of the Jungle Region, which has long been quite cumbersome to work in.  Additionally, you did complete roughly five months of observation, and have gleaned more than an adequate amount of information as a result.  The premature end of your assignment can easily be written off as a newcomer facing more stress than she has yet become accustomed to.”

 

She released the breath she had been holding.  “I…see.  Thank you for your generosity, Lord Spiriah.”

 

Spiriah smiled a bit, a wicked expression on him.  “And truth be told…now that you’ve raised the ire of the lowlanders, it no doubt means a war is on the horizon.  That prospect alone has earned you a second chance.”

 

Lariska nodded.  Spiriah frowned.  He turned to face her, and came forward a bit.  “This is what we must discuss.  You possess doubts.”

 

She hesitated.

 

“Should it be any consolation, you are not the only one.”

 

He walked over to the golden cannon, continuing, “Doubts permeate your entire generation, Lariska—it is no fault of your own.  We have been at peace for far, far too long, and now our new soldiers do not know the first thing about war.”

 

Mustering up her courage, Lariska said, “Lord Spiriah, the truth is…in my time observing the village and its people, I’ve begun to wonder if they are truly so different from us.  Weaker, certainly; without our blessings, of course.  But…on some level…rather, if both our races were placed on Okoto, then is it not possible that we both deserve to be here?”

 

Spiriah regarded her with surprise.  “…Simply for being here?”

 

Lariska’s gaze fell.

 

“Wuhuh…wuhuhahahaha!  Ah, now I see the extent of the damage this peace has caused.”

 

He beckoned.  Lariska jerked forward at first, but then walked normally to his side.

 

“For a moment, forget what you observed from the village.  Surely you observed much else in the jungles as well, yes?  Many different life forms, with varying attributes and abilities.”

 

“Yes, Lord Spiriah, I did.”

 

“And surely you saw those lifeforms preying upon each other?  The stronger lifeforms destroying the weak?”

 

“Yes, Lord Spiriah.”

 

“Of course you did.  Because that is the basic operation of nature.  You see, Lariska, simply being does not mean that a creature deserves to live.  It is only the strong who earn that right.  The weak are simply there to provide the strong with a way of proving their worthiness and are eventually destroyed.  I determined long ago which race was strong and which was weak, and I vowed that our wondrous City shall never be so weak as to be drawn into oblivion.”

 

Spiriah held out one hand, drawing Lariska’s attention.  “You see, Lariska, the lowlanders fight only if they need to.  They think battle is something that finds them, something they can wait out and endure.  Even when raising a weapon they think it a shield or a tool.  All their villages, the very position of their ‘Protectors’, is based on this delusion.  Would you say this is in line with your observations?”

 

Lariska thought back, remembering how little focus the village put on being ready for battle.  “It is, Lord Spiriah.”

 

Spiriah clenched his hand into a fist.

 

“But we are different.  For us, fighting is like breathing.  Our lineage is a combat record, a family tree whose roots entangle and tear asunder whomever we can call an enemy.  We find battle, and then we conquer it.  The will to fight, the unstoppable thirst for blood, is what our souls are made of.  Do you agree?”

 

She thought of the rush of battle, the thrill of a competition of skill and strength.  “I agree, Lord Spiriah.”

 

Spiriah walked to the rear of the cannon, where there was a rectangular silver panel.  “Then you understand?  The inherently peaceful villagers can never truly win a war with we of the City.  For us, war is essential.  War is everything.”

 

He drew in mystic energy and funneled it into the cannon.  White energy built up within the barrel, forming a large sphere of crackling light that expanded until it was nearly Lariska’s size before being fired.  It flew out of the room and arced over the City, striking a mountaintop in the distance and blasting it into dust.

 

“War is in our bones.”

 

He turned to Lariska once more, another wicked smile on his face.  “I trust things are clear to you now?”

 

Lariska nodded.  “Yes, Lord Spiriah.  I swear I shall not falter again.”

 

“I am glad to hear it.  Now, ready yourself for what will be the first of many wars to come, Lariska.  You are about to embark upon the path of true strength.”

 

 

(Review)

[Pahrak Model ZX]

The Third Break

 

 

The border of the Regions of Ice and Water was a land eternally trapped in the final days of winter, when the temperature finally begins to regain the power it held last spring and the white cloak of the darkened days can do nothing but dwindle away into the earth.  Stable ground existed, but the majority of the landscape was covered in either rivers or ice, the latter of which could break away in an instant to reveal either a more solid foothold or a watery plunge.

 

Scattered across this swamp of slush were villagers from every Region locked in combat with warriors of the City.  The ferocity of those from the City was tremendous, but was met by the greater numbers and tactics of the villagers, leading to a stalemate that spanned miles.  Into this ran Dalu.  She swung one axe to the side, flattening a villager without even slowing down, and then jumped at a small squadron, directing mystic energy into her other axe, and slammed the weapon into their midst, knocking them all off their feet.

 

She reared back and laughed.  “Yehahahaha!  That’s what I love about you villagers: no matter how many we break, there’s always another patch to tear into!”

 

One Fire villager rolled to their feet and stabbed with a dagger.  Dalu used the flat of her axe to bat it from his hand, smiled at him, and then used a quick elbow jab to push his nose into his brain stem.  Three more of the fallen villagers were one their feet now.  They moved to attack in unison, but Dalu spread her arms, stepped forward, and brought her weapons together, crushing all three into one mangled lump.  The others started to scramble to their feet, and Dalu waited patiently as they did.  It wasn’t sporting to attack if they weren’t ready.

 

“Stop!”

 

Dalu looked up.  Atop a mound of snow stood Protector Nikila, her cloak billowing to the side as she thrust her trident into the sky.

 

“My fellow villagers: do not throw away your lives in vain!  Your abilities are needed elsewhere, so I ask you flee here to lend aid to your other kin.  You can leave this opponent to me.”

 

Dalu leaned over.  “Yehahah, yehahahahahahahaha!  Oh, that is rich!  I think I’ve finally found it: the single stupidest villager of all time!”

 

While she laughed, the other villagers slipped away and Nikila calmly came forward.  “It would be foolish to underestimate me.  I’ve dealt with many fighters like you, and I know how to bring you down.”

 

Dalu ran and swung.  Nikila jumped back, so Dalu spun on the ice and swung her other axe, nearly catching the Protector with her blade.  Dalu needed a moment to regain her footing, and she felt something sting her in the side.  She paused and looked, then withdrew a knife and tossed it aside.

 

“What, you think you can kill me with those pinpricks?”

 

Nikila held one arm out to her side.  “With enough, yes.”

 

She swung her arm forward, flinging a few more knives from the sleeve of her cloak.  Dalu felt them hit but didn’t flinch.  She rushed Nikila and thrust, but the Protector ducked, stabbed under her arm with her trident, and then rolled away to avoid the counterattack.  Dalu scanned the snow drifts, spotting an armored foot.  She brought both axes down on the pile, and as the powder exploded around her she saw Nikila throw knives into her side before dashing away.

 

“Come now, is that the best you have to offer?” Nikila taunted, gliding along the ice.  “I thought you were the legendary Dalu, General of the City?  Seems I made a mistake.”

 

Dalu snorted.  “Mistake?  Definitely.”

 

Her axe shone with energy, and when it struck the ice it created a fissure that ran across its surface.

 

“You were wrong to think you were stronger than me!”

 

Nikila cleared the way in time and threw a knife as she somersaulted through the air.  Dalu was running before the knife made it half way along its course, pulling energy into her entire body, and executed a leap of her own, spinning with her axes outstretched.  Nikila ducked, widened her stance to avoid from falling over when her foe landed, and then raised her trident to stab Dalu beneath the arm and knock her off-balance, so that when she swept the trident at her other leg the titan fell with a spectacular crash.

 

How can one villager be such a pain?

 

She moved to get up.  Her face met with the blunt edge of Nikila’s trident.  She tried to grab the Protector, but her arm wasn’t fast enough and ended up being peppered with knives.  With a grunt, Dalu spun onto her hands and knees, taking a few knives in the process, and then threw one axe to give her time to get back on her feet.

 

Nikila rolled towards green land.  “It’s futile, you know.  As I said, I’ve defeat many opponents such as yourself.”

 

Dalu lumbered towards her, uprooting the axe she had thrown when she passed it.  Nikila threw more knives; they hit Dalu, but she didn’t slow down at all, just kept moving with her eyes locked on to the Protector.  Nikila backstepped and threw more blades, one of them hitting dangerously close to Dalu’s neck.  The warrior kept coming.

 

“Shut up,” she said.  “There’s no way you’re stronger than me!”

 

Her body started to glow, white bolts jumping between the horns of her helmet.  She ripped one of the knives out of her armor, and once it too began to glow, she threw it back at Nikila.  The weapon buried itself in the ground before its target, and then released its energy in a burst that made her topple over.  That was when Dalu broke into a sprint.

 

Reacting quickly, Nikila dug her trident into the ground and used it to push herself back.  She narrowly avoided one of Dalu’s axes, and then pulled the trident up, throwing dirt in Dalu’s face.  Taking the opportunity, Nikila stabbed Dalu in the chest—not a deep wound, due to her armor—and then vaulted over and behind her before she could counter.  Nikila ran back onto the ice, and Dalu followed closely.  The Protector made a sharp turn and transitioned to a slide, and when Dalu caught up, she jumped out of the way.  Axe hit ice, and Dalu snarled in frustration.  Nikila landed on a snow bank and smiled.

 

Cracks spread out from beneath Dalu.  She looked down and tried to pull her weapon free, but the cracks formed too fast.  The ice gave way beneath the weight of Dalu’s armor, and beneath it was cold, still water.

 

“Why you--!”

 

Dalu dropped beneath the water in an instant.  Nikila sat down and took a deep breath, giving the surrounding battlefield a quick once-over as she regained her strength.  It wasn’t long before she stood back up and stepped onto the ice, moving towards the group she could see nearby.

 

A fist rose from beneath the ice, colliding with her jaw and sending her flying.

 

Dalu hacked violently as she dragged herself out of the river.  She had managed to hang on to one axe, which she dropped for only a moment as she cleared her lungs.  Nikila landed on another plate of ice nearby—it cracked on impact, but it covered earth rather than water.  Dalu picked up her axe and advanced.

 

“Yehahaha…nice try,” she said, still spitting water.  “But I won’t let you win.  I’m the strong one here!”

 

She stooped to grab Nikila, hoisting her into the air.  “There’s no way some villager is going to best me.  I’m Dalu, the Skull Basher!  My strength is leagues beyond what you puny lowlanders could even imagine, second only to Spiriah himself!”

 

Nikila tried to speak, but Dalu headbutted her in the chest, declaring, “And now I’ll use my strength to crush you!”

 

She pulled her fist back.  But Nikila reached out and grabbed her horns, calling on her last reserves of strength to pull herself out of the warrior’s clutches and onto her back.  The Protector locked one arm around her neck and hung on for dear life.

 

“What?  Come on, give it up already!”

 

Nikila drew a dagger and thrust it into an opening in Dalu’s armor.  Dalu shouted, unable to reach the opponent on her back, and so began to shake vigorously.  Nikila managed to hold on and drew another knife, making another deep cut before Dalu started to move again.  Dalu spun around, looking around for something to give her an edge as more knives came out.  As much as she hated realizing it, she could feel her stamina dipping low.

 

No!  My strength can’t fail me!  It won’t!

 

She laid eyes on a tall, sturdy-looking structure made of rock, probably an old abandoned watch tower.  She ran towards it, picking up as much speed as she could.  When she was nearly upon it, she twisted so that Nikila would collide with it first, and threw herself forward.  But Nikila had also seen the tower, and was able to jump off just in time, leaving Dalu to crash into the wall of stone by herself.  She plowed through one side and out the other.  The entire building shuddered and went to pieces, raining debris down on the immediate area.  A few stray rocks hit Nikila and Dalu; Nikila was fine, but Dalu tripped and skidded along the ground, ultimately ending up in a crumpled, unmoving heap.

 

Nikila sighed in relief.  She began to pick herself up, when a bolt of energy pierced her heart.  As she fell, Lariska ran to Dalu’s side, crouching to examine her comrade.

 

“Dalu?  Dalu, can you hear me?”

 

She received no response.  Turning, Lariska’s gaze combed through the snow until she spotted a tiny flash of silver; she moved closer and confirmed that it was a Skull Spider, who looked up at her as if waiting for orders.

 

“Please, contact your Lord.  Tell him to bring Spiriah here, as quickly as he is able.”

 

The Spider twitched and scurried off.

 

***

 

Orkahm trudged over the snow banks, mumbling to himself as he looked from one dead villager to the next.  As his gaze lingered, he felt something swelling up inside of him; far from a pleasant feeling, that much he was sure of.

 

When he saw Lariska, he slowed down, and waited for her to say something.

 

“Spiriah is displeased,” Lariska said.  “He wants to know where you’ve been.”

 

Orkahm looked up at the sky.  “Well…the battle was being fought in many places.  What has happened?”

 

Lariska gestured.  Orkahm walked past her, confused, and looked towards the crowd gathering, headed by Spiriah, the Lord of Skull Spiders, and the Skull Scorpion.  That was when he saw Dalu.  He froze at first, and then broke into a run.  When he reached Spiriah’s side, he asked, “Lord Spiriah…is she…”

 

Spiriah glared at him.  He shrunk back, wondering for a moment if his life was about to end.

 

“She is unconscious,” Spiriah whispered.  “Our combat medics have tended to her wounds as best as they can.  We need to safely transport her back to the City, but the Lord of Skull Spiders has refused to shield her in a cocoon.”

 

Orkahm turned to the giant spider.  Pewku climbed onto his face and their minds joined together, enabling him to understand the shrieks and clicks being spouted at him.

 

“Yes…yes, I see,” Orkahm said.  “Lord Spiriah, the Lord of Skull Spiders says that his cocoons are designed for capturing prey, and as such are not ideal for…keeping their contents alive.  He recommends we explore other options.”

 

The Skull Scorpion shrieked next.  He waved his claws in an odd fashion, and Spiriah watched him for a moment before turning to Orkahm.

 

“I apologize, Lord, but the Spiders are still unable to understand the Scorpion.”

 

The Scorpion pointed to the Lord of Skull Spiders and made a knitting motion, and then put his claws together before slowly drawing them apart.  He then pointed to Dalu and raised his claws above his head.

 

Spiriah watched this, and then said, “You suggest…that the Spider weaves a net, perhaps?  A way for you to safely carry Dalu?”

 

The Scorpion nodded.  Spiriah turned back to the Spider, and Orkahm translated the reply: “That should be possible.  He will begin immediately.”

 

As the Spider set to work, Spiriah returned his attention to Dalu.  Pewku removed herself from Orkahm’s face, and he looked from Spiriah to the fallen General and back.

 

“My Lord…even if we get her back to the City, it is still possible that she may—“

 

Spiriah whirled on him.  That alone was enough to cut him off.  The Skull Grinder loomed over him, eyes burning in a way he’d rarely seen before, and said, “No.  I will not allow Dalu or anyone else to die.  I refuse to be subordinate to the whims of death.”

 

***

 

Spiriah walked into the ward and headed for the bed where Dalu lay.  It had been a week since the battle, and she had not awakened for even a second of that time.  Spiriah had locked himself in his workshop, toiling constantly to find a solution, and now, though a bit weary with exhaustion, he strode purposefully with his newest invention in his hand.

 

When he reached Dalu, he placed on her a gold headband that bore a single blue crystal.  He wore an identical device.  Taking a deep breath, he cleared his mind and touched the crystal on his headband with one finger; it lit up, and he closed his eyes.  He felt as if he were expanding, his consciousness reaching out to fill up the room before narrowing, directing itself entirely on a single point: Dalu’s consciousness.  His mind wrapped around Dalu’s, feeling its way through the sleep that enveloped her, first finding a solid grip and then pulling.  Spiriah’s body leaned a bit, but he rebalanced.  He envisioned himself pulling Dalu out of the sea, slowly but surely gaining elevation, watching the water slip past them and relinquish its hold on her.  Dalu stirred.  As they reached the surface, the resistance intensified suddenly, and Spiriah had to stop, but only for a moment.  He continued to pull, harder and harder until, at last, he and Dalu emerged from the sea and into the sky.

 

Dalu’s eyes opened.  Her body shook, and she babbled something in shock.  Reason quickly returned to her gaze, and when she looked around the room, she eventually settled on Spiriah.

 

“Spiriah?”

 

She sat up.  “Ugh, what happened?  Where am I?”

 

Spiriah removed his headband, panting.  “You were injured…in the battle with the lowlanders.  You had lost consciousness, and remained that way for days.”

 

Dalu blinked.  “I’m remembering now.”

 

She slowly got out of bed, her brow contracting as she did.  “That Protector…she actually bested me.”

 

Her hands wrapped around her head.  “My strength…wasn’t enough…”

 

Spiriah set a hand on Dalu’s shoulder.  “Worry not, Dalu.  You are alive.  As long as you live, new strength will be yours for the taking.”

 

Dalu nodded sluggishly.

 

Walking towards the window, Spiriah said, “And know that I will share in your goal.  Loathe as I am to say this, it seems those abominable lowlanders are capable of putting up more of a fight than I anticipated.  The fault is mine.  Therefore, I shall do everything in my power to fix this oversight and prove without a doubt that we are the superior race.”

 

He looked down on the City.  The people walked by, going about their daily lives.  Even after these past few years of war, they seemed so complacent, doing little to nothing to prepare for the next battle.  The age of peace had changed so much.

 

“We are the ones who are destined to rule Okoto, the only people who deserve this island.  I will not let us simply fade away.  I shall find a way to make us invincible.”

 

 

(Review)

Edited June 18, 2015 by Pahrak #0579

[Pahrak Model ZX]

The Fourth Break

 

 

The hut was one large, circular room, with almost every piece of wall being one of many sliding doors that concealed the owner’s possessions.  Its center was lowered and held a rack of tools, an anvil, and a fire pit, along with a single Water villager who was inspecting the edge of a two-handed sword.

 

Giving it a practice swing, she mumbled, “Well, I guess its fine…just feels off somehow…”

 

A knock made her stumble.  She went to one of the many doors and slid it open, poking her head out into the spiral stone stairwell.  There stood Orkahm.

 

“Good evening, Kailani.”

 

She grabbed him and pulled him inside, slamming the door shut.  “I keep telling you, it’d be a lot less risky if you swam down the other side.  I know your boss has made some kind of water-breathing machine you could use.”

 

“And, again, if I did that I would have to leave Pewku behind.”

 

The spider leapt off of Orkahm’s back and ran across the floor.  Kailani shuddered, saying, “Would that really be so bad?  I get she’s important to you, and that’s fine and all, but one or two meetings without constantly wondering where the bug is could be nice.”

 

Orkahm shook his head.  Looking back, he asked, “Is that your latest work?”

 

Kailani twirled the sword around.  “Oh, yeah.  Just finished it today, but I’m not sure how it feels…”

 

Orkahm held out one hand, and Kailani handed him the sword.  He swung it a bit, transferring it between all four of his hands before looking at it, humming, and giving it back.  “It’s lighter than it looks.  Did you do something different in the forging?”

 

“Same process as always, though my shipment of iron from the Region of Earth never came in.  I had to use some from the Jungle Region.”

 

“Ah.  Maybe raw materials from the Jungle Region have a slightly different composition?”

 

Kailani shrugged.  She moved to toss the sword aside, but then stopped and checked the floor for Pewku.  Walking over to one of the doors, she slid it open and placed the sword inside, and then withdrew some stools.  One flew across the floor to Orkahm, and the other was set down so Kailani could rest upon it.

 

“So, what’s up?  You haven’t been to see me since that battle on the border.  I’m a little annoyed.”

 

Orkahm sat down.  “I do apologize.  That battle had greater effects than I could have predicted, and its consequences—“

 

“Blah blah, yeah, okay, the short version?”

 

“…Quite.  Dalu was wounded in the battle and slipped into a coma.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Lord Spiriah found a way to wake her up, but since then he has been…preoccupied.”

 

“From what I hear, he isn’t even appearing on the battlefield these days.  Hard to believe, but it’s not like I’m going to go out and confirm it.”

 

“He spends all his time in his workshop.  I’ve seen him more than anyone else since I translate for him and the Lord of Skull Spiders—“

 

Kailani grimaced.

 

“—and he says much about making our people strong again, finding a way to make us invincible.  Immortal, even.  It sounds…”

 

“Like he’s gone off the deep end.”

 

“Well, I wouldn’t say that…”

 

“Don’t care; that’s what I say.  Getting obsessed with immortality and thinking you can actually achieve it is a sure sign of needing a good blow to the head.”

 

Orkahm’s eyes wandered to the fire pit.

 

Kailani pushed her stool closer, saying, “Orkahm, I can relate to looking up to your leader, and it makes even more sense with how close you are to him.  But that doesn’t mean you need to agree with everything they say.  You need to make your own decisions.”

 

Pewku scratched at one of the doors, preparing to nudge it.  Kailani snapped her fingers and yelled, “Hey, hey, don’t open that!  The air bubbles are down for the night, you’re gonna drown us!”

 

With a frustrated clicking, Pewku sulked away along the edge of the room.

 

“It’s true that I’m coming to have a lot of doubts about Lord Spiriah,” Orkahm admitted.  “Now that I’ve gotten to know you, I can’t imagine why he hates the villagers so much.”

 

“I’m going to go ahead and say he never got to know one of us.”

 

“Most likely not.”

 

Kailani pushed herself over to the tool rack and grabbed a poker, stoking the fire a bit.  “Imagine that.”

 

She heard scratching again, and waved the hot stick of iron in that direction.  “Hey!”

 

When she set down the tool, she said, “Look, Orkahm, I think the root problem is that Spiriah is just so wrapped up in old ideas about war and violence and whatnot.  And since he’s been around for a long, long time, he’s been able to keep a pretty tight lock on the culture of your entire City so that no one will start to think differently.  What do you think about war?”

 

“It is a chance to prove our strength.”

 

“Oh come on, there are other ways to prove how strong you are without killing people.”

 

“…It is…a way to defend what we are, what we believe in.”

 

“Has anyone been threatening to destroy that lately?”

 

“Well…no.”

 

“So why resort to war?  It sounds a little unnecessary.”

 

“Well, it…”

 

He sighed.  “Wait, shouldn’t you be supportive of war?  You are a blacksmith—war is profitable for you.”

 

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean I like it.  I get plenty of business from hunters and guards, and the occasional sportsman.  I don’t need to make my living off people killing each other.  And I’d rather not, if I’m being honest.”

 

Orkahm slumped.  Two of his hands came together in a distraught clasp, while the other two rested on his neck.  Kailani watched him for a moment, and then pushed her stool closer and leaned forward.

 

“I can’t really say if war is inherently good or evil—maybe there are some situations where waging a war is actually the right thing to do.  But the fights that have been going on…they’re over the stupidest things, if anything at all.  Both sides are just looking for reasons to start throwing rocks at each other.  The difference is that, out here in the ‘lowlands’, we’ve realized that people can die from those rocks, and that it might be better if we avoided that.”

 

Orkahm chuckled.  “So the villagers are superior?”

 

“Oh grow up.  Honestly I think you could’ve figured this out up in the City if it weren’t for Spiriah.  Like I said, that guy has way too much control.  If it weren’t for him instituting his beliefs as the norm, there’d definitely be more than a few City-dwellers proposing some new ideas, debating them, and then deciding where your values are headed.”

 

Orkahm sat up.  “You think we’ve grown stagnant from having the same leader for so long.”

 

“More or less.  It wouldn’t be as bad if he was in the habit of listening to people, probably, but no way we can know for sure.”

 

“Then enlighten me.  What do these values sound like to someone who hasn’t been raised with them?”

 

Kailani leaned back and smirked.  “What?  You really want to hear it?  I’ve been waiting, but you might not be glad you asked.”

 

Orkahm insisted, so Kailani said, “Well okay.  You’ve said a lot about how Spiriah thinks of us villagers, for one.  It sounds like he doesn’t think of killing us any differently than hunting animals, and that’s what he’s made all of you think too.  It makes our deaths a pretty casual thing, so none of you can feel guilty about it, and that certainly helps whenever a war breaks out.  It sounds like he’s based this attitude mainly on the facts that we are smaller and can’t conjure up magic energy or whatever, which is…pretty shaky, and that’s a generous assessment.  The whole thing about being preoccupied with gaining power and proving your strength seems pretty narrow-minded, like it wouldn’t allow you to let anyone have any sense of self-worth unless they conformed pretty rigidly to Spiriah’s expectations, so that’s no good.  People are different.  There are lots of different people, who do different things in different ways, nothing wrong with that.  Plus it seems like he has some sort of ranking, or maybe a mentality of how there can only be one Winner of Life and Everything that he’s afraid of not winning, and that’s just flat out ridiculous.  Not to mention—“

 

“Okay,” Orkahm said, holding his hands up, “okay, maybe…that’s enough for now.”

 

“Ah, I was just picking up steam!”

 

Orkahm thought a moment.  “I don’t know.  I certainly don’t share his beliefs about the villagers anymore, but the idea of the strong over the weak does make sense.  It is how nature works, is it not?”

 

Kailani grumbled.  Her eyes darted back across the hut, and then an epiphany hit her.

 

“Pewku.”

 

“Kailani, she isn’t even doing anything, she’s—“

 

“No, that’s not what I mean, I mean as an example, take Pewku.  Compare her to the Lord of Skull Spiders.  Who’s going to come up short?”

 

Orkahm swiveled until he could see Pewku.  She had perked up when she heard her name, and now approached Orkahm expectantly.

 

“She’s way smaller,” Kailani said, “and I’m sure there are some abilities the Lord has that she doesn’t.  I don’t know the specifics, you haven’t told me a whole lot about that, and thank you for that.  But by Spiriah’s logic, Pewku and the rest of the regular Skull Spiders are inferior, and the Lord should wipe them out to prove his strength.”

 

Pewku crawled up the stool and onto Orkahm’s shoulder.  He watched her silently, and then stroked her with one finger as his gaze switched to the floor.

 

Kailani shifted.  “…Sorry.  Maybe that was a bit too blunt.”

 

“No,” Orkahm said.  “You’re exactly right.  That’s exactly how this ideology would function if applied to that situation, and…it’s just too cruel.”

 

Pewku climbed down and scuttled away.

 

“Maybe something does need to be done.  Lord Spiriah needs to see the truth about this way of thinking.”

 

Kailani’s hand rested on Orkahm’s wrist.  “Again…he’s never seemed like one to listen.”

 

“Then what would you have me do?”

 

“Why are you asking me?  It’s your City, Orkahm.  If you want to change it, then you need to think of a way to do that, not me.”

 

She stood up.  “But, you know…you don’t necessarily have to go back.”

 

Orkahm looked up at her.  “…I can’t abandon it.  It’s my home.”

 

Kailani nodded.  “Yeah, I thought as much.”

 

At the sound of more scratching, she darted towards the wall.  “Pewku, seriously, cut it out already!”

 

Orkahm quickly got up, calling, “Pewku, Pewku come here, you’re going to get us thrown out at this rate.”

 

Pewku settled down, and Kailani turned back to Orkahm.  “Well, if you can control the little bug, you’re welcome to at least spend the night.  We can find a way to smuggle you out in the morning.”

 

Orkahm smiled.  “Thank you.  I think I could use a little more time to think.”

 

 

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[Pahrak Model ZX]

The Final Break

 

 

The entire population of the City had assembled in the stone-walled courtyard, eagerly watching the elevated platform ahead where Dalu, Orkahm, and Lariska stood.  Their excited murmurs rose as the Lord of Skull Spiders and the Skull Scorpion joined them, before dropping off completely when Spiriah appeared.  He beamed at the people, flashing one of his wicked smiles, and made a sweeping gesture.

 

“Rejoice, my people!  Today, I bring to you something that will change the world!  After much thought and careful study, I have discovered what must surely be the secret to making our race immortal!”

 

Cheers rang out.  The Generals’ eyes widened.

 

“No longer shall we be bound by the petty laws of time and death!  We shall become something invincible, something that no force imaginable can hope to stand against!  With this, I usher in a new age: an age of endless prosperity, an age where those vile lowlanders have been eradicated, an age where we of the City rule over Okoto in its entirety!”

 

Spiriah gestured to the two beasts, who each pulled a cart from the shadows.  In each container was a mountain of gold headbands, similar to the device once used to awaken Dalu, except that these bands bore a line of three green gems at their crowns.

 

“This shall be your pathway to eternity.  I have produced enough of these devices for every one of you; once all have been distributed, I and my Generals will make the journey to trigger them.”

 

The people started to come forward, claiming the headbands and putting them on.  As they did so, Spiriah produced a crystalline orb about the size of his own head, with a smaller orb made of gold at its center.

 

“I shall take the core of the mechanism, and plunge it into the depths of the Temple of Time.  It will then harness the raw power of the Temple, the power of Time itself, and send it out to all of you.  Our bodies will be filled with this energy, transforming them into vessels that can never die!  With Time embedded in our bones, we shall be utterly invincible!”

 

The cheers rose again.  Spiriah nodded in satisfaction, and then turned to his Generals.  “Claim a headband and ready yourselves for departure.  I wish for you, my most capable warriors, to share in our moment of absolute triumph.”

 

Orkahm stepped forward.  “Lord Spiriah, if I may…isn’t this a bit…extreme?”

 

Spiriah frowned.

 

“Merely, the power of Time is something we understand very little about.  I can’t help but wonder if tampering with it is truly the safest course of action.”

 

“What are you worried about?” Dalu asked.  “Spiriah’s inventions have never failed.  He knows what he’s doing.”

 

“I certainly do not mean to call Lord Spiriah’s ability into question.  I only—“

 

Spiriah raised one hand.  “Orkahm, I do not blame you for having fears.  This is a horizon that we cannot well see beyond, a day that will irrevocably alter everything we know.  It is only natural to fear something like that.  But, such horizons are inevitable for mortal beings.  Most often, they come in the form of death…and that is a horizon I have no intention of facing.  Through crossing this single horizon, we shall prevent all others.  We shall remain in this world we know so well, for all time, and conquer all of its mysteries, rather than starting over again in the world of the dead.  It is the best course of action available to us.”

 

He turned and walked to one of the carts.  Dalu hit Orkahm’s shoulder, saying, “Come on—eternal life?  Who’d pass up on that?  Now we’ll be stronger than anyone!”

 

She joined Spiriah.  Orkahm turned to Lariska and asked, “What do you think of all this?”

 

Lariska stared at the pile of headbands.  “…The Temple of Time is a sacred and powerful place.  I don’t know that we should be trying to use it for our own ends.  And death, terrifying as it may be, is a part of nature…so perhaps it is wrong to go to such lengths to avoid it.”

 

“Then we agree!”

 

Lariska shook her head.  In a tone of resignation, she said, “I decided years ago that I would not doubt Lord Spiriah again.  He has taken excellent care of us for a very long time, and if we were to have his leadership for eternity, then it would be a glorious future indeed.”

 

Disbelief flooded into Orkahm.  He was too stunned to say anything more, and so did nothing as Lariska went to get a headband.  The atmosphere was ecstatic as the people all put on the devices, chattering about the new possibilities Spiriah would unlock for them.  But Orkahm could only feel that they were all marching towards the cliff’s edge.

 

***

 

The gray interior of the Temple of Time looked as if it had been weathered for a million years, yet the glowing blue glyphs lining the walls gave it an eerie sense of life.  The main chamber was completely empty, save for the pendulum as it swung back and forth, and a series of staircases led up to a circular platform high above.  Spiriah and his Generals walked in wearing the headbands, with the crystal core in Spiriah’s free hand.  He rapped the floor with his staff, looked up to the platform, and laughed.

 

“At long last,” he said.  “Now we shall have all we could ever ask for.  By the end of the month, those lowlanders will be nothing but a memory.”

 

Spiriah took a step forward.

 

“Why?”

 

He stopped, and looked over his shoulder.

 

“Why must we kill the lowlanders?” Orkahm asked.  “You say we are superior, and that it is our right to slaughter them all.  But is that truly it?  Or do you just feel threatened by them?”

 

Spiriah’s eyes narrowed.  “Orkahm…”

 

“What would you think of this thought process if you were on the other side of it?  If someone claimed to be stronger and innately superior to you, and decided your fate for you?  Then would you still think it was right?”

 

Facing forward again, Spiriah said, “I know not what has overcome you as of late, Orkahm.  But I suggest you see to it.”

 

“No.  The villagers have done nothing deserving of our contempt.  And this—this experiment of yours is madness.  You have to stop this, Spiriah, before something terrible happens.”

 

Spiriah shook his head.  “We shall discuss this later, Orkahm.  Perhaps immortality will rid you of this insubordination.”

He made for the stairs.  Orkahm drew his swords and ran at him.  Lariska quickly raised her bow and fired a shot, and he had to stop and block it.

 

“Orkahm!  What do you think you’re doing?”

 

“You’ve seen it too, haven’t you?” he asked.  “You’ve seen that the villagers don’t deserve to die!  Spiriah has to be stopped!”

 

Dalu lunged.  Orkahm tumbled away, and her axes struck the Temple floor.

 

“Don’t be stupid,” she grunted, hefting her weapons.  “You’re the one who’s crazy if you think you can get in Spiriah’s way.”

 

“And you, Dalu!  You know that they’re stronger than he gives them credit for!”

 

Dalu sneered.  “Don’t remind me.  It doesn’t matter, anyway.  Once we get this power, there’s no way they’ll be able to stop us.”

 

“And what about after that?  What will be the point of all that power once you’ve destroyed all your enemies?”

 

Dalu blinked.  “Well…I’ll find something.  But I’m definitely not going to feel weak ever again!”

 

She ran at Orkahm and swung.  He danced around her and moved to counter, but Lariska thrust her spear at him, forcing him to block again.  She jumped away so that when Dalu spun, an axe flattened Orkahm.

 

He groaned.  “I had hoped at least one of you would see reason…”

 

Spiriah was already climbing the staircase.  Orkahm reached out to the mystic energy around him and sprang up, dodging shots from Lariska’s bow as he ran towards Spiriah.  Dalu, however, also took in some energy, making her fast enough to catch Orkahm and flip him into the air with her horns.  Lariska shot him in one of his arms; he ignored the pain, and threw his grappling chain at the pendulum as it passed, being pulled away from Dalu’s waiting axes and flung onto a staircase on the opposite side of the room.

 

Focusing the energy into one arm, Orkahm threw one of his swords at Spiriah.  The Skull Grinder merely spun his staff, catching the sword between its points, and glared at Orkahm for only a moment before discarding the blade and continuing on his way.

 

Lariska kept shooting.  Orkahm ran up the stairs, staying low to avoid the blasts.  Dalu came up and rammed the wall, making him lose his balance, and the next shot slammed him into the stone.  He slid down a few stairs and lay there.

 

“Orkahm,” Lariska called, “please, don’t interfere.”

 

Orkahm picked himself up.  “Are you going to kill me if I try?”

 

Lariska didn’t answer.

 

He stood up.  Dalu shouted, “Don’t do this, Orkahm!  It’s hopeless and you know it!”

 

Orkahm looked to Spiriah.  He was almost at the top of the other staircase.

 

“Orkahm!”

 

He gathered as much energy as he could and ran.  He ascended the stairs four at a time, moving faster than Lariska could trace with her bow.  In seconds he had reached the platform, and as Spiriah came up on the other side, he leapt, soaring over the pool of blue energy at the platform’s center, and swung his two remaining swords.

 

Spiriah thrust with his staff.  Two of the prongs went over Orkahm’s shoulders, and the third sunk into the right side of his chest.  The swords slipped from his grasp and tumbled down into the main chamber, clattering against the floor far below.

 

“You will thank me,” was all Spiriah said.

 

He threw Orkahm over the edge of the platform.  The General managed to throw his chain, which latched on and kept him from falling too far, but he did not have the strength to pull himself back up.

 

No…

 

“Serves him right,” Dalu said.  “What did he think was going to happen?”

 

Lariska watched Orkahm dangle helplessly.  She thought about what he had said.  She thought about that day in the Jungle Region, when the villagers had been in danger.  She thought of Pewku, waiting back in the City, wondering when Orkahm would return.

 

Spiriah stepped up to the pool of energy.  It shone brilliantly with the same light as the glyphs on the walls, almost pulsing, as if its calm surface could be broken in an instant by something incomprehensible from its unknown depths.  With a wicked smile, Spiriah raised the core high above his head.

 

Lariska channeled energy into her feet and jumped, soaring past Orkahm towards the platform.

 

“Lariska?” Dalu called.  “No!  We need this power!”

 

Before Lariska even came into view, Spiriah threw the core into the pool with a splash.  Lightning danced across its surface for a few seconds.  There was a moment of total stillness…

 

Bolts of blue light burst out of the pool, erupting out into the open sky above with a terrible noise.  Lariska was thrown back by the force, bouncing off the wall and falling down the staircase, while Orkahm was dislodged and caught by Dalu just before hitting the floor.  Spiriah gazed up in anticipation.  Four of the bolts lunged down instead of up, striking the headbands of everyone there; their bodies vibrated as electric energy surged through them, blanketing them in sparks that dug into their skin and burned their bones.  All at once the bolts vanished, and then another force pulsed outward, this one knocking Spiriah off the platform to plummet and collide headfirst with the stone floor.  Pain filled his senses, and then a sleep like none other rose to consume him.

 

And then, there was nothing.

 

***

 

Eventually, Spiriah could feel himself waking up.  He opened his eyes and was surprised to find that the Temple of Time had fallen away, leaving him floating in an endless void of swirling blues and purples, no weight, no matter, not even any air, though he seemed able to breathe just fine.

 

Then there was a voice.  A soft yet piercing voice, deep, and resonating in some primal part of his being he had not even known he possessed.

 

“Spiriah.  You cannot fathom the gravity of what you have just done.”

 

Spiriah looked around.  “What?  What do you mean?  Where am I?  Where are my Generals?”

 

“Your people are dead.  The energy you stole from the Temple overwhelmed and killed all of them.  Even you.”

 

His eyes widened.  “I am…dead?”

 

Fear and confusion began to fill up his lungs.  His limbs felt heavy, and sweat started to form on his brow.  It was a sensation more intense than anything he had experienced until now.  For the first time in his life, Spiriah panicked.

 

“At the moment, yes.  But you do not deserve death.  You sought to defile the Temple of Time for your own gain, and now, all that once was and all that may yet be face the prospect of utter annihilation.  For this, your punishment will be something far worse.”

 

Swallowing hard, he called back his composure, and a small fraction of it returned to him.  “And who are you to judge me?”

 

“You need only know that this is the Will of Time, the Will you sought to defy.  And now, I shall defy you.  You wish for your people to remain in this world forever?  I shall grant your wish.  Though dead, they shall walk amongst the living.  They shall wander for eternity as their bodies rot away, bearing no soul, unable to comprehend what has befallen them.  But you…you shall comprehend.”

 

Another jolt rocked Spiriah.  He cringed, and when he opened his eyes, he was back in the Temple of Time.  Weight and air returned to him.  Slowly, he felt himself calming down.  A dream—that must have been all it was, he reasoned.  The last of his panic ebbed away.  He stood up and turned to his Generals scattered about the chamber.

 

The three of them all stood perfectly still, their eyes blank and their bodies looking weak, as if a gentle breeze would knock them over.  Spiriah frowned and stepped towards them.

 

“Well?  Don’t you lot have anything to say?”

 

They didn’t answer.  Spiriah grabbed Dalu’s shoulder and shook her, but she did not react at all.

 

“Enough.  Cease these games, all of you.  Immortality is ours, is it not?”

 

Still, the Temple was silent.  Spiriah spun around, looking up the pendulum, and thought for a moment.  He did feel different, but it was nothing like he had imagined.  This feeling, it was empty, it was unsettling.  It was cold.  So very, very cold.

 

“…What is this…?”

 

And that was when the voice answered him.

 

“Your punishment is this: from the confines of your once-prosperous City, you shall bear witness as your people stumble to the end of the world, lost between life and death.  And you shall know the undeniable truth that you are the sole cause of their endless suffering.”

 

And then his feet began to move.  Against his will, he started shambling back to the City, his Generals following him in a line, their movements even more sluggish than his.

 

And Spiriah realized that what he had seen had not been a dream.

 

He had killed himself and his people, and now, they would spend the rest of time as living corpses, trapped forever within their City, never to set foot beyond its borders ever again.

 

And he would be the only one capable of understanding their situation.

 

He wanted to scream, but he didn’t have the strength.  It was just too cold.

 

***

 

Spiriah slowly paced through the ruins of his Ancient City.  Over the millennia since the curse had begun, his armor had grown discolored and damaged, and parts of his body had fallen away to reveal the skeleton beneath.  The same thing had happened to his people, with some of them in even worse shape than him.  But what did it matter?

 

They can’t complain.  They don’t even know they exist.

 

The Skull Scorpion crawled over a building that was crumbling nearby.  He paused and watched Spiriah for a moment, and then continued on his way.  Spiriah kept walking until he reached the bridge leading out of the City, where his feet refused to move another step.  The bridge itself was still in one piece, if covered in copious amounts of webbing, and he knew that if he turned around the skyline of the City would, though being somewhat ragged, give a deceptive impression of his home.  But it was a lie he knew he couldn’t believe.

 

The Lord of Skull Spiders came up over the side of the bridge, carrying something in his mouth.  Spiriah beckoned.  The Spider approached and dropped the object at his feet: it was a mask, with a narrow forehead and a wide, almost square face that bore a number of vicious fangs.

 

“Your Skull Spiders have been bringing in an awful lot of these, have they not?” Spiriah croaked.

 

The Spider spoke.  Somewhere in the last several thousand years, Spiriah had learned to understand his words.  He understood when the Spider told him of the stranger who had brought him the Golden Mask of Skull Spiders a long time ago, of the voice that he had heard while using the mask a few months ago, of the vague request to find “that mask” for some unknown purpose.

 

“So this stranger spoke to you through this mask…asking you to find another mask.  That was all he said?”

 

Yes, the Spider explained, though his words had seemed cut off.  Surely there was more, but it seemed the stranger could not transmit the full request.  So, the Spider planned to gather masks as best he could while also searching for the stranger to ask for more details.

 

“Ridiculous.  Don’t all those wretched lowlanders wear masks now?  Do you plan to have your kin steal all of them?”

 

Twitching in irritation, the Spider said that he did not have much to go on.  Not initially, at least.

 

More recently, a Skull Spider had taken over a villager and gained access to their memories, memories which were then shared with the Lord when he linked with his servants through the Golden Mask.  One memory in particular drew the Lord’s attention: another mask made of gold, this one made in the image of a five-pointed crown and worn by someone of great importance.  It was called the Mask of Creation, and it was said to have the power to create from nothing.  Such a mask, the Lord thought, must be what the stranger was looking for, and so the Skull Spiders were now searching for this mask in particular.

 

Spiriah stared at the Spider.  “…A mask…that can create from nothing, you say…?”

 

The Spider gently stepped back.  For the first time in ages, a wicked smile was crossing Spiriah’s face, and it was enough to make even the great creature feel just a hint of fear.  Spiriah knelt so that he could look the Spider in the eye.

 

“If you are to find such a mask…then perhaps, if you have yet to locate this stranger and ask what exactly he wants to do with it…do you suppose I could hold onto it in the meantime?”

 

 

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