Timur cradled his head in his hands and scrunched his eyes in anguish. Mists of darkness swirled around him as the whispers inside his head gained volume and intensity. A dark cloud engulfed him, and he moaned in agony as he struggled to regain control. His eyes were still glowing from the transport, and an aura of sickly green light began to form around him. With a guttural roar, he silenced the voices in his head.
The dark mists slid across the ground like fluid water from all directions. Another dark cloud rose up directly in front of him as the mists gathered in a mushroom until it formed a massive creature.
“Mine anointed,” a voice hissed from the cloud. “Why hast thou not brought me any fresh souls to devour?”
“Forgive me, my Lord.” Timur drew himself up to his full height. “I have come to seek thy counsel. It would appear that another Seraph has Ascended.”
The red glow from the creature’s hollow eyes intensified. “Bring him unto me! I must devour him!”
“I shall, my Lord, but it appears I am unable to control him.”
“Go unto thine Oracle for counsel…” the Leviathan seethed. “…for I am too weak.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
“And do not return hither without a fresh soul to consume!”
Timur shuddered. “You have my word.”
The dark cloud dissipated, and Timur could now see Atlantis rising up before him. Though once vast and glorious, the ruins could hardly be called a city anymore. Many of the grand spires were charred towers of teetering rock, and the once-populous land was now sparse and barren. The only life stirring inside the City of Atlantis were the rats and Timur’s corrupt priests. Surrounding the city were hundreds of makeshift huts that housed the remains of the peasant population reserved as human sacrifices for the Leviathan. Since Timur’s reign had begun, most of the population had either been killed or escaped into the dense forests. Many raids had since ensued to eliminate any survivors. By now, Timur was confident that the rebels had been crushed.
A priest appeared, bowing in reverence. “Your Holiness, a chariot awaits thee.”
Timur touched the crown of the priest’s head and spoke in pure mockery. “Blessed are ye.”
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Upon discovery of his return to the planet Zion, he had been clothed in the most exquisite of robes fit for a King. After all, he was the ‘god’ of this other world; at least, according to that which was being preached. Only a few peasants stood as his chariot flew by. Their eyes betrayed pain and loathing, and every face looked drawn and sullen.
Only the cawing of crows announced his arrival as the chariot entered the gates. As he rode through the gates for each level of the city and approached the summit, a grand cathedral-like building rose in grandeur. The edifice had stood the test of time against the wars and pestilences that had afflicted this cursed land. Long ago it had once been a glorious Temple wherein the people had worshiped their God. Today, it was Timur’s home away from home.
The chariot slowed as it pulled up to the grand staircase. Waiting at the bottom was an elderly High Priest with white hair and a long gray beard. As always, an iguana sat oddly perched on his shoulder. He bowed in reverence when Timur stepped out.
“Rise.”
Timur approached him. “Abner, it’s good to see you. You look well.”
“Thou art too kind, Your Holiness.” They climbed the stairs together. “I doth become more feeble by the hour.”
Two younger priests pulled open the colossal doors with audible grunts.
“Pray tell, for what cause dost thou grace us with thine presence?” High Priest Abner said. “I dare say, ‘tis been many years.”
“I have a problem,” Timur explained. “I need your counsel.”
They stood beneath an archway as Timur explained in hushed tones the events that had transpired over the past few days regarding Allan’s Ascension.
“My powers are growing weak,” Timur said, “and I’m afraid that somehow Allan has found a way to drain them from me. I need your direction. I’ve already tried to kill him, but for some reason I can’t.”
Abner laid his palm on the back of the iguana and stared silently into space. His eyes appeared misty and glazed over. Timur didn’t interrupt him, for he was accustomed to Abner’s visions.
After a few minutes, a sudden look of concern stumbled across Abner’s face and he muttered, “Alas, this cannot be!”
Timur found himself growing impatient.
“Come with me.” Abner suddenly released his hand from the iguana’s back and motioned Timur to follow.
They entered the great Temple. Abner led Timur through several archways until they reached the furthest end. There stood a large round slab of stone, which Abner ordered four younger priests to remove. After many grunts and groans, a dark passageway revealed itself. A putrid, stale odor wafted up from within.
“Where are you taking me?” Timur asked.
“Unto the tombs of our ancient ones.” One of the priests handed Abner a lit torch.
Reluctantly, Timur took a second torch from the young priest and followed Abner down a steep stairway. The four young priests trailed behind him. He started to breathe heavily as flashbacks from his imprisonment threatened to engulf him. The dark passageway flickered with terrifying shadows as light from the flames of their torches danced across the walls. Thick cobwebs hung limply from the corners, which Abner tore through with his torch.
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