Chapter 27 - Rebels with a Cause

The stone men came on black ships, spewing fire upon the islands and its people. Their ships roared like crashing thunder, the march of their stone warriors like falling rain as they swarmed the sands. The Huani’i, the Goliath of the great sea, were but a shadow of their former selves. Once grand explorers and renown hunter of beasts, and slayer of the old gods, now without quarry, turned on themselves. Their mighty empire, which once spanned the breadth of the great ocean, fell to obscurity. The great bounty of their old empire is now at the mercy of would-be thieves and conquerors. The Huani’i were now a broken and divided people — fated to slavery and servitude by the smaller races.

Kuana still remembered the white flames that tore through his village. He remembered his village's mightiest warriors cut down to the last by the stone men. The Price of Defiance, he remembered them saying. A price he was all too familiar with. The more they fought, the more they lost. Brothers, sister, cousins… he remembered their faces… so proud were they to stand against their Imperial invaders… yet pride didn’t save them from the stone men, or the black ships.

He was tired of death. He was tired of loss. To face the Empire head-on was to throw bodies into a volcano and hope it would not erupt. He pleaded with his people, with his sister, and what was left of their family to return home. To build a life where they could protect their own. His family didn’t need anymore martyrs.

“And what home would we return to?” He remembered his sister telling him. “Our home has been stolen — our waters polluted with the blood of our ancestors.”

“Then we find a new home. A new place to belong.” He argued.

There were other tribes of Goliaths that found new homes many generations ago. The Rusalk’i made their home in the vast mountain ranges of the mainland, and the Shaa’ni made their home in the great hollow beneath the earth. However, in the end, only his Kuia joined him in his quest to find a new home. They called him a coward, fighting for a cause not his own as an adventurer, yet he couldn’t bear to see any more of his family die.

Even still, when he found a relic of his people on that Estrellan ship, he felt the old embers of vengeance ignite within him. A large shield of shimmering volcanic glass and the shattered remnants of an ancient blade. Weapons once wielded by the ancient heroes of old in their crusade against the tyranny of the Old Gods. Its fate as a trinket for some Issei merchant who knew naught of its history or value enraged him. Were it not for the immediate danger of rival adventurers, he would have been tempted to raze the ship and the dock with it. It’s what his sister would have done.

They had a job to do, however, and they did it well. Well enough that the Pallid Lady had allowed them to stay in her little den to rest and recuperate. Her little group of followers reminded him much of his sister’s band of rebels. They bore the same hatred for the Empire, the same longing to return home, and shared many of the same stories. They also shared many of the same problems. The Pallid Lady often lamented about her dwindling numbers. Each loss was a step closer towards annihilation.

As the others took stock of their loot, Kuana relaxed on the cushions surrounding a large hookah. The potent mix of herbs offered did quite a number on the mind, relieving it of stress and worry, enshrouding it in a sloth-like haze.

“Mind if I join you?” Andros approached him, a tall mug of some sweet and pungent liquid held in his hand.

“You wish to clear your thoughts, too?” Kuana asked. “I do not mind, so long as you do not lose yourself as you are inclined to do.”

Andros let out a brief chuckle. “Yuki told me the same thing,” He sat on the cushion across from the Goliath, who passed to him the hookah’s mouthpiece. The mage took in a lungful of smoke, then exhaled slowly. “You holding up alright? I figured you’d be with the girls counting the loot.”

“I have thoughts…” Kuana said softly. “Too many of them…”

“About the relic you found?”

“Mhm…”

“As a scholar, I’d love to hear about it,” Andros said, passing the mouthpiece back to him. “I must admit… I don’t know much about Goliath history outside of the very basics.”

Kuana smiled, taking in a deep breath from the mouthpiece. “These weapons — the shield and the blade both — belonged to an ancient order of warriors called a’Koaka. It means ‘shadow hunters’ in the old tongue, though some might call them ‘god slayers.’ Before the great flood, when the Jade Sea was once a great continent, the a’Koaka fought bravely against the tyranny of the Old Gods. Many a devious deity fell by their hands, and they fought with weapons and armor forged from magical obsidian. They were a noble and courageous order of warriors, and their greatest would eventually become our first Empress, long before our tribes split.”

“The a’Koaka…” Andros murmured. “They sound similar to the Guild of Paragons… another ancient order of godslayers during the Era of Tyranny. Do you think they could have been related? They were also said to have fought with a dark void-like metal.”

“My people were once renown explorers,” Kuana mused. “It is possible.”

Andros grinned. “Then what you have, my muscular friend, is an incredibly rare piece of history… that is… if it’s authentic.”

“It is.” Kuana said. “I know it… I can feel it. It is hard to explain, but only a skilled shaman of my people can confirm it.”

“Do you know any close by?” Andros asked.

“None in the city,” Kuana said. “But if we find one, then maybe I can get the blade repaired.”

“The Pallid Lady is a wealth of information,” Andros suggested. “Perhaps she might know of one. Hopefully, our success is enough to prove our worth as allies. She wants to meet with all of us in the morning. Apparently, she’s busy dealing with some internal issues.”

Joon awkwardly made his way over, shaking off tiny splotches of ash from his wings. “This place doesn’t agree with me. The smoke makes my eyes itchy, and I keep getting particles of… stuff in my antennae. How long do we have to remain here? It is also very cramped…”

“Weren’t you born underground?” Kurana asked.

“You are mistaken. The Great Hollow is quite spacious.”

“Caves? Spacious?” Kuana scratched his head. “I suppose they must be Shaa’ni live there.”

“Oh? The Great Hollow isn’t a bunch of caves. I noticed a lot of surfacers have that misconception. How do I explain… imagine an endless expanse of darkness. Sometimes there is light… from the fluttering wisps that soar through the expanse or from the light of villages, but everything in the hollow is connected to the roots of the world tree. And these roots are massive! Much larger than the roots of trees up here. These roots are the only surface you can walk on, and they can hold entire villages, forests, and even lakes of water or sap!”

“Really?” Kuana smiled. “I would like to see it one day.”

“I never asked this,” Andros interjected. “But is there another reason you’re on the surface? Besides your task for the sentinel?”

Joon’s antennae twitched. “They are part of my trials! Every druid has to undergo them. You see, in order to properly perform our duties as the guardians of the wheel, we must properly understand the world around us. That is, to live amongst the people of this world and experience their cultures and way of life firsthand! Of course, some of my people choose to undergo this trial purely within the cultures of the hollow, but I… well, I wanted to see the surface!”

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“And after our mission is complete,” Andros continued. “So is your trial?”

“Well, not really…. Our connection to the world tree means we druids have long lifespans. Even Humans within the Enclave can live to be a few centuries old! Therefore, our trials are quite long, though it often depend on the druid. I’ve heard of druids completing their trials in as little as two decades! Some may take a little over a century!”

“I suppose that explains the presence of druids in the adventurer’s guild,” Andros mused. “How many years do you think you have left in your own trials?”

Joon paused for a moment, his wings shaking a little as he thought. “At my current pace… fifty years if everything goes well!”

“Hah!” Kuana grinned. He put his hand on Andros’ shoulder and shook him playfully. “Then perhaps this one’s grandchildren will attend your… ceremony?”

Andros chuckled. “And what makes you so sure that I’ll have grandchildren?”

“Yuki has not told you?” Kuana smirked.

Andros’ face momentarily went pale. “Told me… wait… no…” He was about to get up before Kuana forced him back down.

“No, it’s not that!” Kuana laughed boisterously. “I am joking!”

Andros let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank the Divines… I’m not quite ready for that yet.”

“I don’t quite understand…” Joon’s antennae twitched as he curiously tilted his head to the side.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Andros said.

“Joon,” Kuana said. “Have you run into my people in the… Hollow? The Shaa’ni?

“I have… though not often. They are quite reclusive and tend to stick around the deeper part of the hollow. They appear to avoid the surface altogether.”

“Ah, I see…” Kuana frowned. “I ask because… if fate is kind, I would like to visit the other tribes of my people. I wish to see how they adapted to their new homes. Maybe get an idea for the future of my tribe.”

“Even the Rusalk’i?” Andros asked.

“Yes,” Kuana nodded. “My sister has her own distaste for them. They sell themselves to the Empire as mercenaries, after all. And many are adventurers, yet they share a continent with the Imperials and still maintain their identity and independence. I want to know how…”

Andros smiled. “And here I thought you gave up on Sanala and her little band.”

“I have never given up on them,” Kuana said. “We just have different beliefs on how to protect our people.” He frowned. “And our mission… I believe it is more important now. If the Admiral wishes to give the Imperial a bigger presence in the Jade Sea, then I must stop him.” He grinned. “My sister and I are resisting the empire in our own separate ways…”

“These blood mages are starting to rub off on you,” Andros teased.

“Maybe,” Kuana murmured. “Our means of resistance does not involve martyrdom, however. And I expect to see everyone here — including Joon — to finish this in one piece.”

Andros turned to Joon, then sighed. “I suppose he did prove himself during his first escapade with us…”

Joon closed his eyes, his cheeks scrunching up in happiness as his antennae began to twitch. “Your praise brings me great joy!”

As the night went on, and the others moved on to the rooms the Pallid Lady had provided for them, Kuana fell asleep upon the circle of cushions surrounding the hookah, drifting off within the haze of smoke. The world around him melted into a strange vision, as it often did. He awoke in a land devoid of color, alone atop of a catamaran that drifted in a lonely sea surrounded by thick fog.

His vessel bore no sails, and its two masts were splintered and broken. Stone men slowly climbed out of the fog, pulling themselves onto the ship on all sides. He drew his bow, and loosed an arrow at one, cracking open its head as it splashed back onto the water. Another arrow flew and another stone man met its end. Still, more came, rising up from the fog and climbing onto the deck. Every arrow he had loosed hit its mark, and when he was out of arrows, he pummeled every stone man that came his way.

Flesh melded from enchanted clay, with scaled armor grafted to their stone flesh, eyes glowing a pale blue. They moved slowly, limbs shaking and bending as if they were puppets on a string. No matter how many he destroyed, more replaced them, and with every passing minute, Kuana grew more tired and sustained more injuries. Eventually, the sheer number of stone men became too much to bear. The horde held him in its grasp, pulling him down to the ground, and simply holding him still as more came onto the deck. Soon, the weight of the horde became too much for even the catamaran to bear, causing the vessel to sink slowly beneath the waves.

As he sunk into the water, hidden beneath the fog, he saw the drowned and bloated bodies of his people floating on the surface of the water. Many of these faces he recognized. He saw brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, friends…

The stone men continued to pull him down into the depths. Kuana expended what little air he had left to scream, but their hands began to cover his mouth and eyes…

He awoke in a cold sweat, surrounded by the thin haze of hookah smoke, a sharp migraine wracking the back of his head. In front of him, he saw the Pallid Lady’s construct, Dao, one of the stone men who served the killing machine of the empire, now free from their control.

“Are you well?” He asked, extended a hand down to help him up.

Seeing Dao nearly drove Kuana into a panic as he instinctively reached for his weapon. He felt a surge of anger rush through him, which was expelled as he took a long swig out of half-empty cup of rum.

Eventually, he took hold of Dao’s hand and allowed the stone man to pull him up.

“Just a bad dream,” Kuana said. He glanced over at the small window at the end of the room. The light of dawn was just starting to peer through.

“All is well, brother…” Dao said. “It is a feeling I understand far too well.”

“You… have dreams?”

Dao nodded. “Surprising, is it not? The Imperials may have trapped our souls in these vessels of stone and metal, but they could not wipe away everything.”

“What do you dream of?” Kuana asked.

“I see glimpses of a life once lived,” Dao said. “They are short. Sometimes they’re warm and welcoming… the caress of a lover long lost, the melody of a song once thought forgotten, the taste of a meal once enjoyed. Others… are less so… yet I cherish them all the same. They remind me of who I was. They remind me of what the Empire took from me — from all of my warforged brothers and sisters… forced to fight for an Empire that took everything from them.”

“I have fought and destroyed many of your kind,” Kuana said.

“And for that… I thank you…” Dao gave Kuana a quick salute. “I do not blame you for fighting against the warforged legions. I would do the same if I were in your shoes. The creation of my kind is a crime against life itself. To trap a soul in a vessel of slavery and servitude…” He shook his head. “I only hope that by destroying my brothers and sisters, you have freed their souls to rejoin the wheel.”

Kuana frowned, his brow furrowed. The stone men… monsters from his youth… they had souls, and they too were slaves of the Empire. “How did you free yourself?” He asked. “I imagine the Empire would not let their servants go willingly.”

“The Empire makes a promise to every warforged in the legion,” Dao explained. “Upon creation, we fight in the legions for thirty years. After that, we are free. That is how I earned my freedom. For thirty years, I fought and killed for the Empire. However, this ‘freedom’ isn’t as glamorous as many would hope. When you spend your days subjugating and oppressing the people around you it is quite difficult to shake that perception off. You become feared, and it becomes nearly impossible to find a new trade. You also become accustomed to the systems within the military, and if you survived that long… you also learned to thrive in it.”

Dao let out a long, metallic sigh. “For thirty years, all you knew was the discipline and structure of the legion. Suddenly, you are without purpose, without orders to guide you. So, what do you do? Many of my people simply rejoin the legions and never leave. The more independently minded warforged may become mercenaries, bodyguards, or sellswords, but ours is a life of constant war. Constant struggle… hence the name. To be damned to this body is to be confined to a life where you will never know peace. When I was released from service, I spent months wandering the roads. Many refused to even speak with me and those that did could never look me in the eye. I was free… but I was alone. I didn’t have my comrades… I had nothing.”

Dao turned his gaze to the Pallid Lady’s sofa, currently empty. “I was guarding a caravan when she found me. Or more-so… defeated me. She struck me down, and managed took take off my arm…” He chuckled. “But instead of finishing me off… she noted that I no longer wore legion colors. She asked me: ‘Construct… what do you want in life?’ Then when I couldn’t find an answer… she offered me a chance to join her. I can’t really recall why… but I accepted. And during my travels with her, I came to understand the injustices of the Empire, and the cruel fate of my fellow warforged. Though, I may never know peace… I hope to one day have a part in creating it.”

To never know peace… the thought terrified Kuana. To be subjugated to a life of constant war, and to forever be tethered to it even when given ‘freedom.’ He couldn’t help but to think of his sister… if they were to succeed in driving foreign invaders from the Jade sea… would she be content? Could she really live a normal life? Her life has been a constant battle since childhood, and Kuana feared that her battles would never end.

“Thank you for your insight,” Kuana said. “Yours is a noble goal, and an honorable struggle.” He thought of the artifacts some of the others had. From what he understood, part of the power they received came from achieving a truer understanding of one’s self. He wondered if those artifacts could help Dao somehow… give him closure, or a better understanding of who he once was.

“Thank you, brother…” Dao said. “It will be some time before the Pallid Lady is ready to receive you, and your companions are still resting — as they should be. I have spoken much about myself, but I would like to hear more of you. Tell me of your exploits as an adventurer, or better yes… as a foe of the Empire!”

Kuana smiled, then chuckled lightly to himself. “I have plenty of stories to tell, friend…”