“Lovely, isn’t it?” Mamitu asked coyly and withdrew her hands from Lotte’s face. The girl lay on the ground, wheezing. Neti and Mamitu guarded the place. They both locked eyes with Kiur’s figure standing at the island’s edge. “The borders are disappearing.”
Neti frowned. “They’re not disappearing; they’re blurring. It’s getting messy… we’re getting overboard.”
Mamitu smiled and bent down. She cupped Lotte’s unconscious face, which was reflected in Mamitu’s golden eyes. “Not yet. The queen tolerates her trespassing. Besides,” her golden eyes stared right through Kiur and grinned at the boy, “everything already happened. We’re just looking through a mirror. The girl is dead. The boy is alive. What will you do now, Golden Child?”
“What shall we do, Artor-san?” Date asked. Kiur blinked and found himself back at Date’s side. The Stag-man hunched his back and chuckled giddily at Kiur. “We’re so close. You feel it, don’t you? The height of the gods is close.”
Kiur’s wary eyes climbed the obelisk’s rough frame. From afar, the structure looked indomitable. Ancient but robust. However, up close, the sky-piercing frame was decrepit and crumbling.
The obsidian facade was brittle and rough—with the edges breaking off to unite with the sands. Ancient Kunei characters of Kiur’s language were edged on its Southern side and glowing faintly, containing the name and myth of how the world was created—albeit long forgotten except for the gods and their Gala priests.
Whatever Kiur’s people or Date saw in this structure, he didn’t know. The moment the barrier collapsed, the sun would scorch them during the Solstice, and they would succumb in their effort to return home.
“Kiur.” Tabira pulled him away from Date’s oppressive presence. “What are you stalling? Did you ask him about Ninda and the others?”
Date eyed them curiously. Kiur turned away. “Not yet, I-”
“Stop it,” Tabira hissed, “demand we see them. Otherwise, we will destroy what we found.”
“Tabira,” Kiur hesitated, “if you do that, then Enlil and the other Gods will punish us. You can’t-”
“Try me.” Tabira cracked the metal fingers of her hand. “Remember, I’m your substitute. But I’m not your equal. I’ll not hesitate to spite the Reiszer even if it means the gods will smite me. Demand about Ninda and the others. Now.”
Kiur conceded. He needed to know too, but required the necessary push. Date preoccupied himself with the newest ruins and inscriptions that he momentarily forgot about Kiur and the others.
“Date,” Kiur called out to him with an edge to his tone. “It’s time you hold up your end of the bargain.”
The Reiszer ignored Kiur. “Watch your tone, my polyglot. I decide when it’s time.”
“You don’t,” said Kiur with a sharper tone alongside Gilgamesh, pressing his hands on Kiur’s shoulders. Date gave Kiur his undivided attention, and Tabira took a step back. The pressure she felt was worse than classes back at the temple. “We did our part, and I demand you let us see the hostages again.”
Date cocked his head, his antlers and robes swayed in the wind. “Where does this boldness come from? You’ve been so obedient, Artor-san.” The Reiszer noticed a faint glow moving in the shadows. But before he knew it, it disappeared just as quickly. Something was stirring alongside Kiur’s emotions. “A little indulgence won’t hurt. You’ve earned it. Let’s see them.”
—✹—
“That earthquake; what was that?” Asked Xander and turned to the now-gone dwarf. “Where's–”
“SEARCH FOR THAT DWARF!” Ragnar shouted, unsheathing his sword. “Bring me Waldemar. I don’t care how many bones of his you have to break.”
Ragnar's soldiers broke up their gambling table and went on the search. Xander cautiously eyed Ragna. The ridges around his eyes and neck expanded, and he breathed like a wild boar about to charge.
“Is it true what he said?” Xander asked. “About your son and nephew?”
The ridges returned to their proper shape when Ragnar calmed down. His muscles relaxed, but tensed again when Leif and Kochel found where the dwarf went. They spotted him running back into the desert.
“I never wanted to participate in the raids, Sonny,” confessed Ragnar. “My nephew died in them, and my son died when he tried to avenge him. I despise Waldemar for manipulating him, but he's right. I'll be a coward to protect the others. To protect others, you sometimes have to swallow your pride and ideals.”
They tracked Waldemar’s footsteps towards a formation of rocks. Ragnar’s words haven’t left Xander. In his life, previous and current, Xander made more than enough mistakes because he was prideful, and stubborn and refused to listen. Xander was proud of his intellect, but it sometimes got in his way. He clashed with his sister as much as he did with Cylia. But both were not here anymore.
Bowing his head remorsefully, Xander followed Ragnar and the others, finding Waldemar disappearing behind the rock formation and rising cliff. Ragnar ordered his soldiers to surround the perimeter.
“Shouldn’t we talk to him first?” Xander asked. “That earthquake, it wasn’t natural. Maybe we should-”
“Quiet, boy,” Ragnar warned him like Xander's father would. “Don’t listen to that moron's words. Listen to me, and don’t talk.”
“Yes, Father,” Xander subconsciously thought and dipped his head. He felt like he was back at the tower in one of his father’s lectures. “I will, I'm sorry.”
“Damn it, boy, I didn’t mean it like that-” Ragnar stopped and pulled Xander and himself away before an enormous claw grabbed them and ripped through the hard stone. “Asag! Watch out-”
“Scorpion Man from behind!” another shouted.
Ragnar didn’t know where to turn or slash. Two demons cornered them from both sides. The Asag breathed laboriously, and the Scorpion Man clicked with his pincer. Knowing their strength, Ragnar was not keen on fighting either—not even the one-armed specimen of a Scorpion Man.
“Be more careful. You almost broke our leader.” Waldemar bonked the stone demon against its arm, who shoved Waldemar away and onto his butt.
“Waldemar!” Ragnar yelled. “What’s the meaning of this? How did you tame the demons?”
The dwarf laughed, lounging against a nearby rock instead of the demon. “Wasn’t me, and careful; they’re not the only threat.”
Spears and spikes almost impaled Ragnar. Shabra and the Escapees from their previous hideout in the desert sprang out of the sands and inside the rocks, surrounding Ragnar’s soldiers for good with the demons’ help.
“Good work, father!” Waldemar laughed. “You captured the enemy!”
“Shut up, you blot!” Shabra shouted, swinging his spear in Waldemar’s direction before he pointed it closer towards Ragnar, who had his hand on his sword. “Don’t even think about it, Reiszer. I’ll not hesitate to shish-kebab you.”
The Reiszer dropped their weapons. Waldemar worked to communicate between groups, but Ragnar wasn’t stupid enough to fight against those odds. He needed to find the leader of the operation first.
“It's not Waldemar or the other dwarf—and neither are the demons.” Ragnar’s fist tightened. “I can't afford to be captured here. After I find them, I have to get back. I need to get back to my daughter. Everyone depends on me.”
“Cylia,” Xander said. “It’s you, isn’t it?”
Ragnar turned to where Xander was looking at. Emerging between the groups, he found a ragged girl holding a dog in her arms. Her clothes were in shambles, and her hair was a mess, but the way the Escapees and demons looked at her was unmistakable. She was their leader.
Cylia huffed at Xander’s sight. “Don’t think you can get rid of me so easily. I’m running on spite.”
“It's her,” Ragnar thought. “She's complicating everything.”
Xander laughed nervously. The corner of his mouth twitched.
“Good, distract her, boy, and I'll despatch her-”
Xander was so undeniably glad to see Cylia again that he tackled her into a hug. Cylia didn’t know what to make of it.
“This is weird. Super weird. Stop it. GET OFF ME!” Cylia complained. Umbin extracted Xander away from her. “I’m barely gone for a month, and you act all insane? Did the heat get to you-”
“I thought you were dead!” Xander exclaimed. “I’m sorry, Cylia. For everything! I should have treated you better and shouldn’t have said any of the words I did. I mean it, I’m sorry! Forgive me, please.”
“I-” Cylia stuttered and grew red at Xander’s sudden outburst. He almost cried from relief with snot running down his nose. “Fine, whatever, all’s forgiven! SO STOP THAT WEIRD THING YOU DOING WITH YOUR FACE!”
Xander felt relief—like a weight just dropped from his shoulder. Ragnar exhaled. He didn’t notice his knuckles turning white. “What am even I doing?” He carefully nudged Xander. “Not wanting to interrupt this. But I suggest we better know what’s up with those demons and the Idariens.”
“We’re here to put an end to this,” declared Cylia. The Idariens warily shuffled away as the Asag and Umbin flanked her. She offered Ragnar a hand. “I have an offer for you. Help me free everyone.”
Ragnar regarded the girl. She was unremarkable. Unlike Ragnar and his soldier, Cylia barely had any muscles, and her rags suggested she was a thrall—a slave. Individuals like her served the free Reiszer. Nothing told Ragnar to consider listening to that girl.
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Yet he did as she had gathered the remaining escapees and convinced two demons to join her.
“Why us?” Ragnar asked curiously. “We’re free Reiszer. We enslaved you and your friends and your families. Why would you ask us for help?”
Ragnar observed Cylia and waited for a reaction or an emotional outburst. But he found nothing but icy determination. “Because you’re just like me, slaves,” Cylia answered with the undeniable truth. “You’re wearing a collar, but unlike me, I’m free. Waldemar told me about that Stag-man. He’s holding you by a leash.”
Cylia looked the Reiszer leader dead in the eye. She didn’t mince her words as she spoke with him. Despite being a former slave, she feared nothing. Yet Ragnar feared everything.
“What are you afraid of?”
“‘Why?’ you ask? Why are you trying?” He retorted. “I protect my people—my daughter—by kowtowing to that monster! The desert will kill us soon. There's no need for unnecessary risks!”
“No more risks. No more deaths.”
“That’s exactly why you can do it,” Cylia replied confidently. “You've not seen things from my perspective. I've had nothing to lose except dying miserably. And so do the rest of us here.”
Cylia approached Ragnar and looked up at him. She exuded no magic or extraordinary power, but her eyes resembled a storm. A storm hidden from the world that would sweep up everything before you knew it. She was strong. And reminded him of his daughter Jorunn. Then he noticed her lynx medallion and remembered something Tabira said.
“Your daughter will wake up at The End of the River by a grey cat, a lynx.”
“It's your choice whether you’re willing to help, but it won't stop anything.”
Cylia walked past Ragnar, who grabbed her by the arm.
“What are you planning?” His hand shook. “You can't be serious about attacking, can you?”
Cylia turned. Her determination was still stirring. “Bet I am,” she said, leading her small group towards the Achernar. As dumbfounded as Ragnar was about this, he was reluctant to go. But then he saw Xander following her.
“Sonny, are you mental? Going against him is suicide!”
Xander bowed his head lightly to Ragnar. “Thank you for enduring me, but as Cylia said; We have nothing to lose. Besides,” Xander wiped the sweat from his cheek. His expression changed. “I've got a friend to help.”
—✹—
"What is the reason for this, Date?!" Tabira exclaimed, her voice filled with frustration.
“Didn’t you want to see the hostages?” Date asked with a smile behind his mask. “What about these? Don’t you care about them, too?”
“Stop messing with us! We asked to see our people, not those Reiszer!” Tabira shouted. Her companion barely held her back. “Kiur, translate that I will rip off his head!”
Kiur looked over at the corner of the tent. He spotted Ragnar’s poisoned daughter among the Reiszer and was still fighting off the poison coursing through her. She looked less in pain than before but still struggled immensely. Kiur saw something strange about her.
An unfamiliar woman sat on a stool next to Jorunn. She wore a pair of expensive goatskin breeches, a cloak made of falcon feathers, and a golden necklace glittering around her neck. She crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward, staring at Kiur silently with her chin resting against her head.
No one seemed to notice her stare. The presence she emanated felt unfamiliar and outlandish to him, entirely not human. When Jorunn winced, the woman grabbed a wet towel, wrung it and wiped the sweat off her brow. The goddess kept her eyes on Kiur as she focused on Ragnar’s daughter. Her rose-coloured eyes were as sharp and determined as Cylia’s.
“Kiur!” Tabira called out to him again. “Say something for the gods’ sake!”
Kiur snapped out of his trance. “Date,” Kiur said, missing the honorific, “please stop playing games. Where are Ninda and the others?”
The Reiszer chuckled, “Concerned something’s gone amiss with them?” Date extended his long fingers, flexing and contorting them like a double-jointed individual. A hint of metallic scent lingered in the air surrounding his fingertips. “Please, you’ve gotta believe more in me. I’m as benevolent as the gods. I’m good. Can’t you see that, both of you?”
Before Tabira’s patience wore thin, Kiur stepped before her. His own patience was wearing thin as well. “Why are you stalling us, Date? We helped you translate the inscriptions, yet you still refuse to abide by your promise.”
Three more days had passed since then, though had yet to see the hostages. Date was visibly mocking them and enjoyed his misleading attitude.
“Date, I mean it,” Kiur hissed. His magic leaked out from his teeth in the form of embers. His body trembled from losing control. "If you still refuse to collaborate, we'll have no choice but to destroy the inscriptions."
This snapped Date back to attention.
They have been destroying cultural structures for weeks now, but avoided touching any of the inscriptions. Destroying them was akin to inviting the gods’ wrath. As a priestess, Tabira was compelled to protect them. She was determined to destroy them too, but when Kiur said it was far worse. She immediately felt the room grow cold. Their patron god, Enlil, was not happy about his declaration. Nor was Date.
“My dear, polyglot.” Date caressed Kiur’s cheek. He could barely hide his displeasure and ferocious intent. “Don’t make threats you can’t hold-”
Don’t say Kiur didn’t warn him. When Date touched Kiur, his body reacted automatically to protect him. He sat himself and Date aflame. The tent burned down. The fabrics crumbled to ash, and the poles holding everything together fell. Tabira shielded herself and the others with earth magic. Kiur remained unharmed at the epicentre of the fire, and so was Date—except for his half-burned sleeve.
The Stag-man tilted his head. “I liked you more when you didn’t run your tongue like that.” Date squeezed the joints in Kiur’s jaws. “Maybe I should rip it out.”
“Fire him, NOW!” Gilgamesh yelled, forcing Kiur’s body to produce more flames. They coalesced in his hand into a red orb and enveloped Date to let go of him. “Dodge to your right. Pierce him with earth magic!”
Date’s sharp hand cut through the flames and cut Kiur’s hair. He barely had time to force his body to move and have the earth protect him, but it wouldn’t listen to his command. Instead, he ordered the flames to grow hotter.
Date, however, broke out of the vortex. His burning antlers swayed and the snarl of his mask widened, speckled with ash. “Daring, aren’t we, polyglot?”
“Protect them.”
Spikes shot out of the earth, impaling Date in place. His body went limp, but when Kiur thought he was safe, he saw the body contorted and Date laughed. “Try harder, wouldn’t you?”
The spikes ripped at his clothes and Date flew over Kiur’s head with a wide jump, and landed behind Tabira. His hands tore through the two women standing next to her, towering over her with bloodied hands. “Lovely resistance, priestess. Shall we ask for your god's help?” Date licked his fingers. “Or shall we find out if he wants to help after I rip your child out of your belly?”
Date’s body elongated, his antlers extended and curled like pale wood. Tabira staggered over the bodies in the presence of the monstrous stag. Everyone, Reiszer or Idarien alike, cowered before him.
The joints in his clawed hand popped with anticipation. “Shall we find out whether it’s a boy or a girl? If you asked me, I hope for twins!”
His claw ripped through a layer of stone, encasing Tabira just in time. He heard Kiur sputter blood from his mouth. “How was the recoil, Artor-san?” he taunted. “Benevolence comes with caring for your people. Tell me, did it feel well?”
Kiur whipped away the blood curling in the corners of his mouth. “I don’t care about being benevolent. Step away from her.” Embers ignited from Kiur’s frigid hand. He jumped at Date, pushing him back into a slab of rock he conjured.
“Just like your courage, your attempt is half-assed.” Date freed a hand and twirled a long and thin spear he manifested in the air. “Grab him.”
A Reiszer grabbed Kiur from behind. Date lunged with the spear at him. Kiur felt his head being pushed down by Gilgamesh in time for the spear to miss him and instead, impale the Reiszer behind him. Kiur landed with a thud on the ground. The body of the Reiszer lay next to him, perforated by a Date’s spear.
“He’s not above killing others,” warned Gilgamesh. “Time’s short. Do what you must now, but don’t-”
“I have to destroy the inscriptions.”
“Don’t!” Gilgamesh yelled and failed to get a grip on Kiur.
As Kiur dashed toward the Achernar, others instinctively backed away. Date's soldiers attempted to apprehend him, but he outpaced them with a heated combination of fire and speed. Placing his hands on the structure, Kiur gazed up at the faintly glowing Kunei Forms adorning its brittle facade. Near the base, he noticed additional scriptures containing magic beyond any living could handle.
“Destroy them.” Kiur bit his lip. “Don’t allow him to take possession of their knowledge!”
As his flames began to consume the characters, the sky darkened and boomed with Date's commanding voice. "Are you sure about this?" he inquired, prowling toward Kiur. With a firm grip on Ninda's hair, he dragged her along, followed by the other hostages urged forward by the Reiszer soldiers. "Or do you require a demonstration of the consequences?"
Date yanked on Ninda's hair and seized an Idarien by the neck. His sharp fingers tore into the woman's flesh, causing her neck to tear apart.
"Stop it!" Kiur begged. He withdrew his hands and slowly dropped to his knees. Tears ran down his face as he tried to appease Date. "Please, don’t."
The Reiszer narrowed his eyes at Kiur. “Not convincing enough. Decimate,” ordered Date, and his soldiers killed a tenth of the people Kiur tried to protect.
They cut their throats with rusty swords or chopped their chests with axes, leaving them wide open with broken rips and hearts left beating in the open as they squirmed on the ground with broken spines. Date shifted his mask, revealing his yellow teeth underneath.
He unhinged his jaw, and bit into Ninda’s shoulder with a wide maw, tearing off a chunk and chewing on it as the girl screamed. “As expected of a child. Tasty with a hint of a child’s benignity. I wonder how the priestess will taste.”
Kiur threw up at the sight. He expected everything, but not this.
Date's guard, Samuru, forcefully kicked Tabira forward, causing her to stumble and fall face-first into the sand. With his remaining arm, he pressed her face into the gritty ground. She yelped from bending over with her large belly. Date seized her by the hair. He cupped her chin with his blackened fingers, his grip firm and unyielding.
“What’s with the fear, priestess? Call for your benevolent god, will you?”
"No!" Kiur's voice echoed with urgency. His magic surged forth, causing the Achernar to tremble and crack, fissuring the ancient inscriptions engraved upon it. A burst of purple lightning arced out from the pillar, weaving through the sky like a sinister web."You've caused more than enough harm," Kiur implored, his voice filled with desperation. "Please, stop this. I beg you."
Kiur’s heart was about to burst from seeing the pain and killing Date caused. He couldn’t take it anymore. Everything was getting too much for him. The gurgling of his people, Ninda’s cries and Tabira’s shouting burst his head. His ears rang and rumbled from the shouts that paired with the screams of the dead below his feet.
“Tell me, polyglot,” Date grumbled and pushed Tabira away. “Do you ever seize what is yours? Do you ever live without a regret in your life? Or are you a coward like the rest who are too afraid to lose everything?
“Tell me honestly, Artor-san. Are you a coward?” Date spread his arms. When Kiur looked at him with fearful eyes, his smile widened under the mask. “Afraid and broken. You’ll make a wonderful thrall for my services, Artor-san. For when I become a god, I’ll need a servant. And you’ll be a magnificent priest, my cowardly polyglot.”
Paralyzed with fear, Kiur felt his heartbeat slowing, each pulse heavier than the last. It was as if the very ground beneath him was pulling him into the ground. His own shadow seemed to writhe against the earth, banging against the surface in silent desperation to reach out to him. But all Kiur could hear was his inner anger.
As Ninda's cries grew fainter, a sense of despair washed over him. He knew that soon, her heartbeat would cease, just like so many others before her did. The strings in his mind snapped one by one. Kiur felt himself unravelling, his thoughts fragmented and disjointed. He called out deep below the earth's surface. A silent cry escaped his lips.
Kiur lamented.
“Guess the tool broke,” Date sighed with disappointment. “Too bad. This will undoubtedly complicate any translation efforts.”
His hands dropped to his side as he gazed up at the Achernar, his sharp eyes filled with determination. “Not yet. I’m so close. Perhaps what I need are more sacrifices. Idarien blood mixed with inferior Reiszer. Yes, Ragnar’s daughter will do nicely-”
“Think twice, you stupid stag!”
Date felt a sudden, searing pain shoot through his body. Something sharp had pierced him from behind. A sword protruded out from his shoulder blade, leaving him stunned for words. But before he could make a sound, Jorunn plunged a dagger into his neck.
“The first one was for my cousin,” said Jorunn, her poison-filled breath tinked with anger. The ridges underneath her eyes and arms flared. “The second for my brother. And the last one for my dad, you stag.”