"Why not just tell me from the start?" I remain standing in the initial position the duel commenced in and look down on Batamira, who lies in the dust before me.
"Because it wouldn't be fun otherwise." He speaks brokenly between panting breaths. After our short exchange, he can't move a single limb and simply stares up into the sky. But there's a grin on his face, meaning he enjoyed the fight.
"I never get you battle maniacs." Shaking my head, I walk closer to him. In truth, I do enjoy battles as well, but not in the same sense that Chandra or he does; I like hearing terrified screams of people as they run away from the unstoppable force that I am to them. Even fights where I could lose my life don't hold any excitement for me, and I prefer to end them quickly without giving them a chance to harm me in return.
"It's in our nature." Batamira states with a chuckle. "Ouch, even laughing hurts."
"Alright, now tell me everything." Standing right above his head and looking down with a cold gaze, I show him how serious I am about this. "And don't try something like grabbing my ankles and pulling me down. I'll crush your head if you do."
"I understand. No need to be so heavy." Slowly moving his arms while trying to flip himself over, the deputy commander replies jokingly.
"That was a terrible pun." I put a foot on his shoulder and push him back down. "And I prefer you right there. Now talk."
Taking the normally humiliating position in stride, Batamira proceeds to tell me about what happened shortly before and after the death of my mother. Then he details the arrival of the group over one month ago, and their departure two weeks later. They should have arrived in the southern jungles by now.
When he finishes, I'm frozen in place. My mind is jumbled as I hear the names, unbridled rage and pure joy wrestling for control over my outward appearance. Staying still and staring into an empty spot, my vision leaves me, and I'm trapped in my thoughts for what feels like an eternity, unable to decide what to make of the information I just received.
"Onee-sama?" Hestia's voice brings me back. She overheard everything and must know how I feel.
"It has been almost two years." I mutter and step off the ajura warrior on the ground. He seems to have recovered enough to get right back up, but I don't register his movements as I turn around to face the fallen angel.
"You must be happy." Even though she's smiling, I can feel a hint of loneliness in it. Maybe she's jealous that I would lose control over myself like this for somebody other than her.
"Yes..." But I can't pay that any mind. The impact of the revelation has blown away all other considerations I had.
If I go to Zohigal, I'll be able to meet Kamii again. And at the same time, the murderer of my mother will be in my grasp. For now, I can't tell which is more important to me, but all will be revealed then.
Kamii Side
On the third day in Zohigal, Sazi got the permission to let them go out into the city with a palace attendant who speaks their language acting as their tour guide while four Varanida monks keep watch over them. Even though the former pharaoh is an honored guest of the empress and prime minister, her entourage doesn't enjoy the same level of trust at all. Especially with the presence of humans, whom the lizard folk know as invaders of their neighboring kingdom, they feel uneasy to let them walk through their streets unsupervised.
Both Sazi and Ireyo are absent from this outing, as the former spends most of her time with Empress Teoyohticacoatl, and the latter has been asked to come along as well. She isn't telling the others what they do during their long meetups, but from her attitude, it's clear that she's being treated like a pet. Itzcoatl has repeatedly expressed how delightfully fluffy he finds her, so the empress must feel the same.
The Suncaller Ritual is two days away, so Kamii's mind is too preoccupied with what lies before them to think about enjoying herself in the city. The others show varying degrees of the same sentiment, with Zancrax being the most frivolous in his attitude, as he seems to have no care in the world.
The little dark elf knows that it's not true. Even though the minotaur may seem simple-minded, he has a deeply wounded heart and hides it under a façade of simplicity. Everybody knows it, and they play along with him because they carry similar scars with them.
But soon, Terog also loses himself in glancing at the stalls that sell exotic tools and weapons cut from obsidian. He's the only member of the group that relies on a multitude of tools for combat, and most of his supplies such as throwing knives and daggers have been used up in the battle against the blood apes.
Gram becomes similarly absorbed in discovering kitchen tools of a civilization that doesn't seem to use any metals harder than gold. Zancrax is having a field day eating various kinds of foods he would have never gotten to see in the Dominion.
Only Rolan is in even less of a mood to visit the stores and stalls, and only trudges after the group while looking at the paved street in front of his feet. Ever since his short outburst in the throne room, when he forgot his position and begged the empress for help to beat back the human invasion, he has been very quiet.
Kamii glances back at the former leader but doesn't go to talk to him. She doesn't need to act friendly with him, even after everything they went through together; he's still an enemy of the demons for what he did to Queen Pelomyx. And he's an enemy of Chloe most of all.
When lunchtime comes, the group is led to a large open air restaurant on the plaza they passed through on their way toward the palace the day they were brought in as prisoners. It overlooks the bustling street and grants a beautiful view of the towering ziggurat on top of which the Sunshard burns brightly.
As the group walks to find seats that would fit Zancrax - who still has a massive figure and corresponding weight even without his granite armor - Kamii passes by a table and overhears a familiar male voice. It's talking in the guttural language of the Physornis, but she wouldn't forget it even in hundreds of summers.
She turns around and finds a hooded person with his back turned to her, seated at a table across from a female Physornis sporting colorful plumage. Wordlessly, she extends her cursed arm, grabs the person's neck, and lifts him from his seat with surprising strength, causing his chair to topple over audibly.
The Varanida monks who had been staying a short distance away since the beginning of their outing begin to move instantly, and the palace attendant - also a member of the Varanida class of lizardfolk - who had acted as their guide spins her head around in shock, too overwhelmed by the situation to speak.
Grabbing the crab pincers because they must be pressing down on his throat, the man tries to free himself, but then realizes what it is that has him in its grip.
"Kamii?" The voice presses out and taps the cursed arm. She lets go, and he turns around on the spot, pulling down his hood to reveal himself.
"Huh?!" Rolan's stares at the familiar face underneath it. "Sigurd?!"
Gram's mouth falls open when he recognizes the bard of their group, whom they had parted with right after the defeat of the demon queen. Back then he had said he would travel the world and spread their tale, but never would he have thought that 'the world' included somewhere as remote and unknown as this city.
"What are you doing here?" Kamii suddenly asks. Rolan and Gram both wanted to pose the same question, but in a much more amicable tone than the little dark elf employed. She almost sounds hostile, as her eyes scan Sigurd's appearance.
He looks perfectly fine and content with his life, with colorful feathers in his hair and a natural suntan from being exposed to the elements of warmer climates. It appears he's in Zohigal in the capacity of a tourist rather than a troubadour, even though this city shouldn't let humans in so easily.
"It is good to see you. Rolan and Gram are here too?" His smile is natural as he regards the three people he used to travel with. Then he finally notices that his former leader is missing his left forearm, and his eyes go round. "What happened to you?"
The Varanida monks, sensing that the situation didn't escalate as they thought it would, stand down again and glance over at the palace attendant. Even though they are guards and she attends to the empress directly, the warriors of this culture are of higher social standing. Thus, she lowers her head to them apologetically for having let this happen.
"You didn't answer my question." The little dark elf raises her cursed arm a little and clicks the pincer audibly. The seriousness of the situation finally dawns on Sigurd, as he glances across the demons behind Gram, and his gaze falls on Rolan's sunken face.
"It is a long tale. Let us sit down together, and I shall tell you the details." The bard closes his eyes for a moment and opens them again before speaking. "I believe this is the time for you to learn some important things... about this world, and about me."
He turns around to the shocked Physornis woman whom he was sitting with and who's now standing up with a concerned expression in her eyes. Sigurd calms her down with a cooing sound from deep inside his throat before lowering his head apologetically. She nods in understanding and glances at the little dark elf with a frown, then walks away, turning many heads as she passes them.
"Did we disturb you on a date?" Gram asks the bard jokingly, trying to ease the tension of their reunion, but the latter gives him a smile and a knowing look that causes the big man to blink in confusion.
"Just remember that I know my way with the ladies." Winking, Sigurd implies everything Rolan and Gram may be thinking about him - and more. "But that is another tale, for another time."
"You're the Lady of Brilliance?" Kamii asks with clear skepticism in her expression and tone.
"Oh no, not exactly." Sigurd leans back on his seat and waves at her misunderstanding. "I am what some would call an aspect of her. You could think of me as her child."
"So you're a demigod?" Gram stares at the bard dumbfounded. Even though they traveled together for such a long time, he never showed any signs of his heritage. He turns to Rolan, who doesn't look as surprised as any of the others at the table. "Did you know about this?"
"Do not be too hard on him. I told him a little about myself, and he knew there was more to me than meets the eye." The bard speaks in the leader's stead. "But while this revelation may seem shocking to you, there is more. Something I was taught by my creator - my mother - only recently."
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Sigurd then proceeds to tell the group about the game of the gods, and the fact that they are actually only immortal people from a forgotten age manipulating humans and demons for their own amusement. That the Lord Creator Alverost is the one who created the demons out of a sense of curiosity. That there could be lasting peace between humans and demons if not for the demon lord system put in place to promote eternal war.
Throughout it all, Rolan's expression grows increasingly downcast, as he begins to understand that for the amusement of a group of people playing at gods so many innocents had to suffer. That he had been used by them to create a symbol of hope for the humans and a target for the hatred of the demons.
"Why are you telling us this?" Kamii glances at the Varanida monks standing in the four corners of the cordoned-off area that is the open-air section of the restaurant. Suppressing the urge to click her pincer audibly, she keeps it under the table for the time being.
"Because I am here to put an end to it." For the first time since they sat down, Sigurd's expression grows serious as he addresses Rolan. "You were sent here by the crone, right? I am sure she even mentioned me."
"What do you know about the crone?" The latter suddenly looks up in surprise and asks hastily.
"That you should not trust her." For the first time since any of them have met him, the bard shows an emotion that borders on hatred. "She is the cause of many evils in this world, and this time is no different."
"Who is she?" Finally, the leader asks the question Sigurd must have been waiting to answer.
"Shelnir, the Guide of Tomorrow." He replies in a low, almost grumbling tone. "The schemer of the self-proclaimed gods, who loves to raise people's hopes and then guide them to ruin."
"What, Shelnir?!" The leader jumps up from his seat, and his chair falls backward. The Varanida monks motion to step in as they sense a potential escalation, but the guide shakes her head to signal them that everything is still under control. "Are you saying that coming here was just a joke? That she sent me all the way across the demon continent to watch me reach my wit's end here?"
"Yes, that is indeed the case." Not mincing his words, Sigurd confirms his suspicions. "But before you despair, know that it was not for naught. You found Kamii, Gram and me along the way, and you will soon meet one more person you have been longing to see again."
"Technically, she found him." Zancrax suddenly joins the conversation, and everybody turns their heads to stare at him in surprise. He and Terog had been listening silently, taking in all the information while thinking their own part, but the minotaur felt compelled to comment there.
"I assume that explains your lost arm?" Smiling to the towering demon, the bard then turns to Rolan and looks at the stump of his left forearm. "Do you want to get it back?"
"Huh, what do you mean?" Blinking, the leader asks in confusion.
"I am an aspect of Lady Sintress, the woman who brought light magic into this world. I can heal you." With an expression of compassion befitting of being the offspring of the Lady of Brilliance, Sigurd explains.
"Thank you, but this is a burden for me to bear." Thinking for a bit, Rolan then decides against it. He glances at Kamii, who looks in his direction expressionlessly. "If this is all over and I'm still alive, I'll think about it."
"That is what I thought. As expected of the leader." Smiling, the bard lightly shrugs his shoulders and then turns to the little dark elf. "I believe you will be happy to hear that Miss Marcott has returned to the Dominion not so long ago."
"What?!" She jumps up, and her cursed arm gets caught on the table, causing it to shake and several cups to topple over. Once again, the Varanida monks motion to approach them, and once again the palace attendant acting as their guide signals for them to calm down. "Where did you hear about that?"
"You should know by now that I have my sources." Winking, Sigurd maintains at least some of the mystery surrounding his person with that. "Everything will be revealed during the Suncaller Ritual. Pay close attention to the sky at that time."
"You're talking as if you won't be staying with us." Gram wonders, looking over to the Varanida woman as if asking silently for her to allow him to come to the palace as a guest.
"That is true; I will be leaving the city and return on the promised day." Getting up from his seat, the bard indicates that the time for parting has come, but Kamii lifts her cursed arm onto the top of the table demonstratively.
"Who said you could leave? You'll be coming with me and await Onee-sama's judgment." She speaks in an unmistakably hostile tone, but Sigurd looks at her with a sad smile.
"You have really changed, Kamii." Shaking his head, he turns around. "Do not worry; I will be there."
With these words, he walks away, knowing that the little dark elf can't get violent in here with the warrior monks keeping watch over the situation. The latter is painfully aware of it as well and plops back down on her seat with a sigh.
Terog and Zancrax exchange a glance with each other and then stare at Kamii as if asking what their next move should be. Meanwhile, Rolan and Gram watch the bard disappear into the crowd before falling deep into thoughts. This wasn't the kind of reunion they thought they would get with their former comrade - not even the former leader considered it would be under such circumstances, despite interpreting the prophecy from the crone as his quest for atonement.
"If he doesn't appear during the Suncaller Ritual, we will go and find him." The new leader finally says and clicks her crab pincer audibly. "He isn't getting out of this with his sweet talk this time."
The Suncaller Ritual is so called because the lizardfolk perform an elaborate ceremony that leads them across their entire city and ultimately onto the apex of the ziggurat where the Sunshard burns brightly. It involves great risk to the population and has only ever been conducted in times of great importance. After all, the Sunshard will be covered by a monolithic stone slab and put out, to call down Tonatihuatl, the principal goddess of their religion, to commune with her.
Sazi has been given a front-row seat right next to Empress Teoyohticacoatl, and her entourage consisting of the demons and humans that came with her are watching the ritual from the seats behind them. The procession of colorfully dressed lizardmen and -women dances through the streets and across the main plaza in elaborate patterns, wearing intricate masks and wielding ceremonial spears and axes.
Kamii can't concentrate on watching the spectacle and looks around restlessly as if waiting for something out of the ordinary to happen. Terog and Ireyo are similarly anxious, while Zancrax is enjoying the show without a care in the world. Rolan and Gram watch the procession, but neither of their minds is on it either.
When the palanquin carrying the Hueytetotopixqui - the great priest - passes them by, the population prostrates itself on the ground. He resembles a giant toad with a massive body and a wide mouth but has thin arms and legs that look like they won't be able to support his weight. He carries a feathered staff in one four-digit hand and a mirror shield made from polished gold resembling the sun in the other. Pupilless black eyes that seem to be filled with starry night skies show that what he lacks in physical appearance, he makes up with mystic abilities.
The procession makes its way toward the top of the ziggurat, where the giant stone slab is standing in position for the great priest to give the signal for it to be lowered onto the Sunshard. As they pass the stands in which the empress and her prime minister sit, the priest turns in their direction to lift the shield and touch its surface with his staff in a salutary gesture.
Empress Teoyohticacoatl nods and gestures at him to proceed, and the palanquin bearers slowly and ceremoniously walk the last steps to a scaffolding built in front of the giant flame that's burning as if it's being fed by a jet of gas. The great priest labors to get up under his own strength and waddles across the small bridge connecting his palanquin to the scaffolding, where he comes to a stop.
From the two back corners of the ziggurat platform, a lizardfolk of each main caste approaches him. One is the Physornis woman with the beautiful coat who was with Sigurd when they met him in the city. She carries an obsidian dagger and a golden bowl and moves with refined steps. The other is a young Varanida male with a slightly less bulky body than his peers. He carries a smaller version of the paddle-like obsidian saw and a larger bowl also made of gold and walks at a measured pace, his head raised in pride.
They climb the steps leading up the scaffolding from opposing sides and come to a stop next to the great priest. He raises his ritual tools and begins to chant in a deep pitch that resembles the croaking of a toad. The Physornis and Varanida on each side fall into a trance-like state as the present their own tools to the flame, and their bodies undulate to the song-like voice of the priest.
To the horror of those unfamiliar with the practices of the lizardfolk, they watch as the two kneel and place their golden bowls in front of them before they touch their obsidian blades to their own skin. The Physornis woman slits her own belly, causing her guts to fall out into the container before her. She then stabs herself in the throat and falls over lifelessly, ending her suffering quickly.
At the same time, the young Varanida saws off his own head with one swift motion of the ritual blade, which also falls into the larger golden bowl before him. His headless torso drops forward and slides to the wooden floor, the tail still twitching from the sudden decapitation.
Holding their breaths, Kamii and the others stare at the gruesome ritual self-sacrifice, while the massive stone slab is lowered onto the opening where the Sunshard is emerging from, covering it completely and extinguishing it. The great priest points his staff at the severed head and directs his mirror at the guts in the bowl, then looks up at the sun and calls out to it at the top of his lungs.
For a second, nothing happens. But a murmur suddenly runs through the citizens gathered at the foot of the ziggurat, when the sun begins to darken. There are some large clouds in the sky, but something massive is pushing itself in front of the light in the sky, blotting it out.
The great priest raises his voice, making it clear that this isn't what should be happening. More and more lizardfolk stare at the phenomenon in the sky with confused and frightened expressions. It's unthinkable that worshippers of the sun wouldn't know that solar eclipses exist, so Kamii and the others know that the fear stems from the fact that they know one shouldn't be happening now.
"That's no moon." Ireyo mutters in a grave tone when she finally comes to a realization. "It's a flying fortress."
When the eyes of those looking up have adjusted to the change in luminosity, they can see that the massive shadowy form is a gray sphere-like construct made of something other than stone. Despite its silent mode of floating, an audible sense of pressure lays itself over the city underneath its overbearing presence.
"Alverost's Sanctum." The rabbit demon adds, an expression of impotent hatred distorting her features.
Chaos side
Two days and nights of searching from the skies netted me nothing; I couldn't find anything due to the size of the jungle. The sheer mass of living beings in it means I can't use my Chaos senses to use the discovery of a concentration of lifeforms as an indicator of the presence of a city. And the tree density makes it impossible to see what may lie below.
But on the third day, around high noon, I spot a massive floating sphere in the distance, slowly descending on the jungle below. Since I've been traveling in Chaos jet mode and let my passengers use the windows to help me look, I can quickly turn and fly toward it. As I approach the sphere, I begin to realize just how big it really is, and how out of place it is in this more or less fantasy world.
It's obvious that whoever this belongs to is an old human with the knowledge from my time. Otherwise, Senka wouldn't be flapping her mouth in speechlessness as if she's staring at another case of copyright infringement.
I just wonder how I could have missed it so far. Does it have a cloaking mechanism or did it actually come down from space?
"Look at the size of that thing." Hestia comments in awe, and my mind goes places before returning to the task at hand.
"I'm sure it has a thermal exhaust port somewhere." My pilot avatar glances over to the copilot seat where Senka's projection sits. She stares back as if ready to murder me just to keep my mouth shut.
"I just asked Exla, and she told me that's Alverost's Sanctum." Explaining the thing floating in the sky, the doll girl then changes her voice and impersonates the Old Human on the other end of the line. "That little nerd has a real need to overcompensate."
"Speaking from experience?" I ask the little cloud girl directly, expecting Senka to transmit it. But she only stares at me with an expression of disapproval.
"Do you want to destroy Arkaim? Because that's how you destroy Arkaim. Don't constantly remind her of her immature body." She comments with a frown. Then her expression grows concerned as she swivels her head around. "She's staring at me as if she could hear that, but that should be impossible. Please say something to appease her."
"Senpai loves you the way you are, Exla-chan." I say before turning to look in front. "I'm approaching the sanctum now. Let's keep the radio channels open."
Activating my Chaos senses at the longest range and greatest sensitivity, I make sure to pick up on anything that could emerge from that flying fortress and intercept us. But in the wake of doing that, I discover an unnaturally large gathering of living beings roughly the size of humans about halfway between me and that thing.
Don't tell me that's Zohigal there, and Alverost came to destroy it? That sphere sure looks like something that could fire a city-blasting death laser from it.
"Not on my watch." I speed up and quickly bridge the distance to the city in one burst. "Not this time!"