Varus, or rather, the perfect impersonation of Varus, paced back and forth in a forgotten, dimly-lit temple chamber below the city. The Sun had just set above the surface, and Varus could feel its waning influence in the weaves. Without the energy and vibration of the Sun to cloak their metamorphosis, they would need to rely on Tenebriton to dampen the ripples of their transformations.
Varus pulled the fuligin ramparts close, sealing the roofs and pillars of the chamber that stretched the height of several stories, cutting an entire city-block’s worth of his subterranean refuge and his own presence from the outside world.
The events of that afternoon troubled him greatly. The son of Carl Eramir had come to the Grand Library, brazenly asking about Aeternitas of all places. Fueling his suspicion was that he had given a fake name to ask about it; never in the six years before had he heard a sliver of squeak from that disgraced Eramir family.
So why now? He repeated in frustration, bringing his fist down to a table of marble that broke into pieces.
Four knocks upon the gates pierced the tempest in his head.
“Enter,” Varus spoke, shaking the calcified dust off his fingers.
The man named Jack slipped inside the temple-chamber and made a solemn bow.
“I have returned, LORD MIRRIKH.”
“And?”
“There is some import to report.”
“Most welcoming,” slithered Mirrikh. “Then let us shed our vellum.”
“After you, my lord.”
Mirrikh cupped the face of Varus with three fingers, and pried it loose like one undoes a mask after a masquerade; and at once an absolute dark enveloped that great underground hall, thick liquid miasma worth several pools rushing out of what was once a face, reorganizing, reassembling, reatomizing itself into a colossal archaeopteryx, its feathers blades of obsidian sharper than any knife, its eyes a sizzling crimson, its fuligin wings spanning across seventeen titanic pillars, held together by sinews of molten metal. The temple-hall shook with the might of his metamorphosis, only settling down when a full five minutes had passed.
The man Jack, or Enzen as it was true, followed suit, snapping the joint of his finger in half, when where blood must have sputtered a cord of miasma came unbound and wrapped his body; droplets of foul purple liquid oozed and pulsed as the sound of chitin scraped across the floor of stone as nails to a blackboard, restructuring, expanding into segments of a centipede, its insectoid body crowning with a head of a mighty cobra the diameter of a centurion tree, eyes of orange coming to life and piercing the night.
“Ahhhhhh....” he slithered, cracking his neck.
“Trouble brews in our midst, young Enzen,” said Mirrikh, imposing his words directly into the understanding of his junior. His long, lustrous beak uttered neither a word nor made a single sound, the only noise in that hall the rumbling tendrils of flame issuing from his wings, heating the pillars a pulsating-red.
“Please enlighten me, my lord.”
“The child of Eramir has moved without expectation,” Mirrikh relayed, his speech in Enzen’s head tolling like truth. “At the Grand Library which marks my theater.”
“The child of Carl Eramir, the explorer against the cause of HIS HIGHNESS?”
“Correct.”
“But our GRAND DUKE DOLOMAR dispatched Carl Eramir out at sea, long ago. We destroyed his research.”
“GRAND DUKE DOLOMAR did, and we thought it was accomplished, that his work and will would never see the light of the world again. But now, his son seeks to attend Aeternitas, the place where the Encarnacion resides.”
“Aeternitas?” spoke Enzen in the flesh instead of through his thoughts, concern evident. “Of all places... Why must he?”
“That is the question... we cleaved their ambition and drove them to the earth so that to dream would be a sin. We have made it so that they would have to earn their bread through sweat and toil, that to return to a world they once had would be a fruitless endeavor. Yet six years on, they’ve begun to stir once more, driven by a purpose yet concealed...”
“No.... No.... No....! I have just begun! I have just begun! Now they may become the bane of our plans!” hissed Enzen, crumbling what was left of the marble table into finer dust in his jaw. “GRAND DUKE DOLOMAR ought to have killed them all after he disposed of that explorer! The woman and her children too!”
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“Speak not lightly, and out of turn, young Enzen,” warned Mirrikh, his voice thundering into his junior’s mind. “Or do you forget that much of you is still green?”
Enzen recoiled in tremulation, bowing his head at once. “I apologize.”
“Had your wanton words reached GRAND DUKE DOLOMAR or ANU-SHENNA, you would have been devoured where you stood.”
Enzen cowered in apprehension.
“I shall not again speak of what our Lords should have done,” slithered Enzen, his scales trembling.
“Or ought to do. I shall be merciful in keeping this between our holy selves.”
Enzen gave a solemn bow once more.
It was ten minutes until the dust of the matter settled for them to speak again.
“Broaching this inconvenient truth,” Mirrikh rumbled, “we know not what drives this boy. The most pleasant explanation must be that it is a mere coincidence. After all, he remembers his father.”
“Yes, Lord Mirrikh.”
“Surely it is not out of the ordinary to wish for greatness and accomplishment, as do boys of that age. But he is unlikely to succeed. Aeternitas in an institution open to those with innate blessings, which he presently fails to demonstrate,” the elder mused.
“But surely this is out of the blue? Those who wish to prepare for Aeternitas begin years before the examinations, Lord Mirrikh. He came to the Grand Library with the trials just half a year ahead of him.”
“Thus drives our collective concern. He may be spurred on by the dreariness of his toil, or... perhaps a mission from his dead father, preserved in his will.”
“But GRAND DUKE DOLOMAR witnessed his will lodged at the Guild of Explorers before departure. He left no mention of such a mission to his two sons, nor his wife.”
“Then perhaps there is another document, an artifact.”
“Speaking of which, Lord Mirrikh,” said Enzen, “A curious fragment of conversation entered into our chats at the dock.”
“Speak.”
“A man by the name of Tulann joined the workers’ dock this morning. He speaks of a package that fell out of a wall at an inn in which he had stayed. He states that he has pawned it off.”
“The name of the inn?”
“Tulann had called it ‘the Tuna.’”
Mirrikh’s eyes flared in the darkness.
“That is what he said?”
“Yes, Lord Mirrikh. May there be a –”
“AAAAAAAAARGH!” thundered the elder, a tide of palpable dissatisfaction rushing into Enzen’s head, making him recoil in fear.
When it had died down again, Mirrikh finally spoke.
“WHAT REVOLTING SERENDIPITY! BECAUSE THE NAME OF THE ERAMIRS’ CURRENT ESTABLISHMENT IS ‘THE MARLIN’ BY NAME!”
“No – no... it cannot be! THIS CANNOT BE! Lord Mirrikh,” implored Enzen, prostrating before him, “we must put an end to the Eramirs at once, and obtain the parcel as speedily as possible! Carl Eramir was enormously shrewd. He is not one to have relinquished his mission to remove us from the Earth only for his untimely death! Please grant me your holy blessing for this mission. The family must not be allowed to live, nor continue on his will. I readily relinquish my body as the MORA and spear of our KING.”
“SILENCE!” said Mirrikh, pushing his gigantic beak above his junior’s head, eyeing him directly. “IT IS THANKS TO YOUR RECENT RECKLESS RAMPAGE THAT THE EYES OF THE ENCARNACION’S ORDER IS PRESENTLY PLASTERED ON THIS CITY LIKE PANOPTICONS!”
“Even still, Lord Mirrikh, I –”
“OH, YOU POSSESS A PLAN? ENLIGHTEN ME.”
“A plan –?”
“IF YOU HAD FULL REIGN, IF YOU WERE IN MY PLACE, WHAT WOULD YOU DO?”
Enzen gulped, and took a deep breath before he answered.
“I would pilfer their residence and erase them all. I would not leave any trace of Carl Eramir in this world.”
Mirrikh issued a lengthy, frustrated growl.
“JUST AS I SURMISED! MY JUNIOR, THAT IS NOT A PLAN!”
Enzen looked to the ground, his impetuous ambition cut like wheat to the scythe.
“You are too young to have felt the terrifying might of the Encarnacion’s blade! Do you believe you would have been spared had you taken a single step beyond their establishment? You would have perished, Enzen, and laid bare our plans for them to see. Would you be so myopic as to lay to waste the works of our HIGHNESS that has persisted THE LAST DECADE?”
“No, my lord, of course not.” Enzen bowed his head deeper down and away.
Mirrikh, recognizing his flames had been gradually melting the pillars to lava, and sensing his junior’s fearful shame, slowly reared back and away, dowsing his anger.
When a full ten minutes had passed, he spoke again.
“It is not just by your myopia that I do not allow you such a reckless hunt. Are you aware as to what else drives this judgment?”
“No, my lord.”
“It is this: you are too valuable to suffer a wanton death at their hand. You possess a potential beyond others, perhaps the greatest of the young. It has only been three years since your descension, and you can maintain your human form for weeks on end. Be assured we shall make good use of your gifts in pursuit of our grand stratagem.”
“Your assessment is too great, my lord. But... but now that the spectre of Eramir moves again, what are we to do?”
“We shall await what comes of the boy named Elwin Eramir. If he passes the so-called tests of Aeternitas, then I have yet another plan to put into motion. One that shall turn disfavor to opportunity.”
“Aye,” replied Enzen, rather disappointed. Though he had no choice but to agree, he craved deeply for blood. “But what of the package? Surely if the man named Tulann had pawned it off, then the Eramirs would not have been able to see its contents. If they hadn’t been able to see it, then... then perhaps they are not aware of Carl Eramir’s will, after all.”
“A judicious analysis at last, Enzen. You are beginning to mature,” said Mirrikh. “We must then find out whether Tulann speaks the truth.”
Enzen tilted his head.
“How, my lord?”
“Give him pain, or provide him an opportunity to escape his circumstance. Your time spent among the dregs of the earth convinces you of their desperation to forge life anew, to escape their past failures. Is that not the truth?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Then see to it, in the dark. Find if Tulann speaks the truth, and if he is, where he has pawned the package he so speaks.”
“I shall do so right away.”
“In fact,” said the divine archaeopteryx, “there shall be no need of us to delay. Something strikes my mind.”
“What is it, Lord Mirrikh?”
“I shall send some regulars after the son of Eramir – the ones we have ensnared from the docks with promise of payment. Perhaps we may not need to wait, should they succeed. Even if we fail, the boy will fail to point his fingers.”
Enzen nodded his head while Mirrikh looked to the dying sky above the halls of stone, sniffing a memory of the boy’s intent to read about the FOUNDERS.
“After all, he should still be far from home.”