Armaan stood still, his chanting echoed as the structure of the pathway quivered as the marble started giving in to his will. His magically created mud blade scraped the ground besides his leg, its dried hard surface glinting under the light of the artifice above. The war band of tokoleshes’ footsteps felt closer and closer to him as the faint seismic waves created by their charge turned from a tickling feeling to a painful, numbing one.
His calmness slowly changed, a shiver ran down his spine as he gazed at the darkness, short hairy humanoids with horrific visages, a large mouth with only a few sharpened teeth, empty black eyes and a large circular crater shaped into their flesh, putrid green skin and bone. Crude, ivory weapons they have crafted from their victims after consuming all the flesh found on a body, in their right or left hands.
As the first two stepped out from the shadows, Armaan changed subconsciously his chanting, sharp spikes of murky earth sprouted forth the ground, piercing through their small bellies, pinning them to the frames of the pathway. Armaan took a few steps backwards involuntarily as he listened to their death wailings while he continued the chant. One more reached the end, leaping towards him. Murky blood flowed out from its mouth and neck as his blade lodged into his neck, his legs wriggled before going limp.
With a bit of shaking, the corpse fell off the blade, landed on its side with a loud thud. Through his feet he sensed the others still relatively far, he started hastily chanting the next spell. His voice broke as the previously comforting as the pain increased in volumes. Jagged, small rocks protruded out from under his index fingers’ nails first, pushing it out followed by a steady stream of his blood.
His chanting stopped for a moment as he screamed through the top of his lungs, the whole area trembled as it combined with the weight of their charging steps. Then his voice suffocated, his throat hardened, dried as he silently coughed. The sensation of the tokoleshes got closer and closer. He exerted all his muscles to get back and continued his chanting, forcing every arkhaine syllable out.
His eyes started hurting like the Six Abysses as something rigid, jagged started pushing them from behind. His sight blackened, blood poured like tears down his ebony cheeks. Even through all this pain he continued regardless, his eyes flattened under his feet, the holes expanded as the two stones carved their way out. Breathing became harder and harder too, while his remaining finger and toe nails also departed one by one, pushed out by crystalline like rocks sprouting forth.
The sand started moving away in terror as the ground trembled just like when a dragon moves with heavy steps, revealing cracks underneath. The columns holding the ceiling gave in, shattering, flattening the few more tokoleshes entering the area. Pieces of ceiling fell all around him, landing with a loud roar, he remained silent as he wrestled with the indescribable pain.
The images of his mother, his siblings and friends, Tetitae flashed in his mind. His lips started moving, no words escaped them as he articulated a simple word. Farewell. The ground caved in, the darkness swallowed his body as he fell into the depths.
**
Armaan’s consciousness slowly returned to the air hung with the heavy pungent, putrid odor assaulting his nasal senses. It combined with the stinging pains pulsing in the two large holes of minced flesh where his silver eyes once rested and the exposed flesh that once hid under his nails, now framed in crimson tainted crystals. The sand that found its way into his wounds just amplified this sensation, yet he could not cry or shriek in pain. His throat while still somewhat fleshy made gulping hard and painful, and only blood flowed forth from the holes.
Yet he pulled through all this agony, he searched for anything to grab onto. For a moment repulsion filled him as he touched the soft, rotting flesh of a tokolesh buried under heavy debris. His palm searched, found the smooth, cool sensation of elven marble exuding elegance and timelessness even in its decrepit state.
After I finally managed to get on my feet, my head jolted forward at the sounds of rushing footsteps. “Oh kid, what are you doing here?” The voice, I recognized the voice of Raheem as he worriedly asked me accompanied by a gasp.
“We were here with my friends on a final venture.” I said after a bit of silence, thinking it may be some monster that can tap into one’s mind, mimicking the voice of the old man. But as I felt his creasy palms warm touch I calmed down.
“Are you alone?” I asked Raheem as I started feeling calmer as the prospect of survival reared itself in my mind.
“I wasn’t but then they charged, then they left, then the whole place caved, well, now I am.” He uttered while my heart beat so hard I felt it was about to burst out from my chest. My legs shook, then finally give in. Raheem caught me in time and helps me sit down on what felt like a large slab.
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“Your friends? Did they get out in time?” Then he asked me. I sensed a tinge of worry in his dry voice.
“Yeah, thankfully. I managed to buy them some time as the tokoleshes approached us.” For a moment I remained silent, then said while I sensed my tears mixing with my slowly drying blood flowed out as the true depth of agony reared its head.
“That’s fine. We better get out sooner before your wounds get infected. Do you need help with walking?” Strangely I sensed Old Man Raheem’s gaze inspecting my wounds inflicted by the Devouring Mother told me about countless time during our lessons.
“I can manage.” I forced my voice to keep low as I answered amidst the pain increasing ever more. In the end it was better to hurry out and get healed then wait around until the pain washed-out.
“So boy, its probably the worst time to inquire about this, but why do you seek to join the legion?” I leaned on the old man’s - eerily neither cold or warm - firm shoulders he probably honed through years of adventures. Then all emotions and depth faded from his voice as he reached the end of his sentence – that felt calming in that moment.
“I’m not sure if I’m being honest. A few years ago I wanted to follow in my father’s footsteps, to provide for my siblings, to my ma. But now I want to see the world beyond the deserts, while still to help my family, and even others if I can.” For a while I mulled over whether to answer, then decided to do so to help alleviate my mind a bit from the pain that seemed to lessen a bit.
“Oh-ho what a noble soul he has chosen.” Raheem chuckled a little at my words.
“But are you sure this is the path you can help others? Aren’t there better paths to make this world better? To improve upon His Dream?” Then he questioned me, even his touch was now devoid of warmness and coldness. I only sensed a numbing emptiness in its place. Yet I still found myself relying on his hold, feeling some sense of comfort from it while mulling over my answer.
Then we both stopped and Raheem helped me sit down on some cold, smooth surface once again. Now I felt his vacant gaze on my face.
The only answer that came to my mind in that moment was this one simple word. “Yes.”
“Do you feel this?” Several moments of soothing silence followed before He spoke in a deep, distorted voice accompanied by reversed whispers echoing through the path.
“What is this?” I asked ignoring as His empty palm touched my chest, erasing both warmness, coldness within, while also easing the pain that had been assaulting me for the past few minutes or even hours – I’m no longer sensing the flow of time.
“A reward for the answer.” He continued as he wrapped my damaged fingers around his. In that moment, in the endless void that replaced my vision, I noticed outlines - weirdly familiar as if I looked into a mirror that only reflected my body’s ethereal frame - accompanied by a feeling of power I never felt before.
“Why?” I had to ask as my gaping gaze turned to face his head veiled beyond a gaping darkness under a hood.
“This is the right step towards the world of my dreams.” He spoke as his voice became distant, joining the whispers accompanying it. Then I felt as my power, my possibilities grew exponentially. I felt that I could make this world mine by just a snap of my fingers. I felt the edges of my mouth curl up as madness overtook my mind while I watched myself walk out alone from the tomb.
**
“Armaan thank the Elders you’re…” Shuhaih the elderly head of their settlement walked out to join the group prepared to venture into the ruins after the kids returned hastily. As he walked through the sand plantations, he noticed Armaan standing solemnly at the edge. He quickly rushed through the center path and grabbed his shoulders. His scream reverberated through the air as he gazed upon his eyeless, torn visage.
“What happened to you boy?” After he calmed down, Shuhaih asked while inspecting the rest of the boy, searching for any other wounds.
“I’m alright. Never felt better if I’m honest.” His words flowed out with a haunting serenity as chilling smile curved onto his lips before turning around. After four steps, he stopped beyond the edge of the plantation, slowly raised his arms in the air while his empty eyes stared at the sky.
“Armaan!” His mother’s voice reverberated the fields as she rushed with the others towards him. He tilted his head ever so slightly towards the sound’s direction before focusing back on the skies.
Then clouds formed on the sky, blocking the tender crimson rays of the night sky. His chanting filled the air with an eerie quality as rain started to fall, making it harder for them to reach him in time. The golden mud grew small hills before revealing saplings turning into bulky trees in mere moments, growing high towards the sky. Their tender golden leaves offering sheltering against the conjured storm.
“Stop Armaan!” She shouted as the storm got more and more intense, a forest grew around their small settlement. Then as she reached within a few steps, a swiftly growing tree impaled her from under, bringing her towards the heavens while its slender trunk ran through her body. The impaled cadaver explodes into chunks, spraying the golden leaves in crimson drops and bones as it expanded in width in the blink of an eye.
Armaan continued, the storm muffling her deathly wails while the sensation within him turned from tender to agonizing as his, veins popped out, hardened, changed into roots. His bones similarly turned into bark, bursting forth from his body, tearing it while growing into the largest, exquisite tree amongst all with the strongest bark.
His flesh still hung onto the branches, slowly changed into leaves of crimson and ebony rustling in the winds while the storm slowly passed. Children’s shrieks passed between the leaves as shadow blanketed the small village of Qaib Dayrieth.