Madoc

“So, it’s definitely cursed,” Sam said as he leaned against a tree. The cold can of brew in his hand had condensation rolling down the silver aluminum in a steady shower. Sam took a drink as he looked over toward where the Gom and Captain Fisher were arguing about the long black sarcophagus. Madoc was only vaguely interested in the coffin. Something about it resonated within him, pushing against his cultivation.

“Definitely,” Tierul growled above the two young men. Both startled, not knowing she had been lounging on a branch above their heads. Madoc’s heart was pounding as adrenaline surged through him. By the time he realized it was Tieurl and not an enemy, he was halfway to his feet with his sword half drawn. Sam had reacted faster, bursting off the ground and falling into a roll away from the tree. He came to his feet in a rush, his pale face flushed with embarrassment.

“Did you two not know I was napping here? I thought you sat under my tree to include me in your talk,” there was an edge of amusement hiding in her innocent question.

“Well, I’m sorry for scaring you two, you must pay more attention to your surroundings though.” Tieurl slunk down from the tree with a wide smile gracing her broad face. Madoc felt a shiver of fear as she did so. There was a primal fear there that couldn’t be overcome so easily.

“Yes, you must,” Ilyria said as she walked out of the tree they had been leaning on. She bent down and grabbed the beer that Sam had dropped in his haste to run away.

“Kids these days. So jumpy,” Tierul growled with a chuffing sound that Madoc took for laughter.

“Apologies Senior Sisters, your great experience far surpasses our own. A true testimony to the many years of practice you’ve had,” Sam said, smiling widely as he bowed his head. Tieurl and Ilyria both stopped laughing, their quiet chuckles dying away as their eyes narrowed. Madoc was fairly certain Sam had called both of the older cultivators old. Sensing that they were moments away from dismemberment, Madoc decided to change the subject with all the grace of blind elephant.

“What makes you think the coffin is cursed?” Tieurl looked away from Sam to fix Madoc with a fierce gaze. Her emerald eyes were slitted as she took him in. The two boys were shoulder to shoulder, presenting a solid front. The fact that either woman could beat them bloody with both hands tied behind their backs was something Madoc was trying not to think about.

“Are you dumb?” Ilyria broke the tense silence.

“Just ignorant,” Madoc said, giving her his best humble smile. There was an art to smiles and he was trying to become a master of them. People seemed to respond better to smiles. Now, on the other hand, some of the other races took smiles as threats. Baring your teeth wasn’t something that most would do to a beastwoman. Which is why Madoc made sure to keep eye contact with Ilyria.

“At least you admit it. A god died a violent death, their domain collapsed on itself but it was all contained in that sarcophagus. Then it sat for, well who knows how long. That thing is so full of death attuned aether and resentment I’m surprised we aren’t killing each other,” Tieurl responded as she finally broke her death glare away from Sam and Madoc.

“Do you know a lot about stuff like this?” Sam asked.

“I should hope so, I’m a professor of Archaeology. I specialize in crypts, mausoleums, and battlefield graves.” Tierul preened as she talked about herself. Her fur darkened, absorbing the shadows around her, while her luminescent green eyes burned with passion.

“That seems oddly specific and useful to us?” Sam questioned. Madoc had to agree with him, it was oddly specific and useful.

“Please, the universe is infinite and was ancient before the Eternity War. Any planet we crash land on would have graves. It’s why I majored in graves, job security. There’s always a new grave to undig,” Tieurl repeated her chuffing laugh while the other three just stared at her.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be digging up graves,” Sam murmured, but Madoc was glad to notice he didn’t push it. The last thing either of them needed was for the giant cultivator to grow angry at them again.

“If it’s cursed, why are we bringing it on the ship?” Madoc asked.

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“Money,” Ilyria respond instantly. She crushed the now empty can and belched.

“The ship crash landed, we lost crew members and passengers. Captain Fisher will want some to gather whatever he can to offset the costs to the corporation. At least, if he’s smart he will,” Ilyria finished off. Tieurl and Sam nodded along sagely to the analysis.

“And if the powerful cursed object kills us all?” Madoc pushed on, the sense of unease growing.

“Shit happens!”Sam said with a laugh. Madoc was certain now, these Frontier people were all strange. The four of them settled down in the shade of the trees to watch the Captain and Gom continue to argue over the cursed sarcophagus.

“What will this curse do?” Madoc asked, wanting to at least know what the cursed item did.

“All sorts of things. I got a strong scent of resentment and battlelust. Hints of duty too. The god was probably a local war god that got drafted in the Eternal War. If he was above a local god, you wouldn’t have had a chance to take it.”

“Local?” Madoc asked, feeling more lost than ever.

“You’re Imperial right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you should know gods come in different sizes right? “

“Of course, City, State, Planet, System, and Imperial,” Madoc replied with certainty. The abbess had been sure to teach them the different levels of godhood and where their divine benefactor fit in. That Andartina was an Imperial level goddess, worshiped in every corner of the Empire, was a point of pride.

“Close enough, there’s more to it, but you Imperials have a broad scale and work hard to support your gods. Out here, a local god would be anything under a system god. They’re restrained to the world they are born to. Many of these local gods were killed in the Eternity War, and even more joined the Empire after the war. Left the Frontier fairly sparse of gods, which is why there’s so many cultivators out here,” Tieurl was speaking with the cadence of a teacher. Madoc felt himself nodding along instinctively while Sam and Ilyria had found a new round of silver cans to drink out of.

“Now, since they were only a local god, and it’s been a few millennia, most of the curse should have dissipated. It will likely encourage fighting, resentment towards each other, and holding onto your duty whether you should or shouldn’t. Now, it will likely also attract aether beasts and other cultivators too.”

“So, it’s going to make us all fight each other?” Sam cut in from his whispered conversation with Ilyria.

“Not necessarily, but it will encourage resentment and bloodlust. Something that would have been a minor irritant will become a major point of contention. Instead of deescalating, you’ll want to use violence. Things of that nature,” Tieurl just waved it off with a wide paw. A wide paw that had put multiple people in the infirmary before the cursed object had been brought on board.

“How much do you think it’s worth?” Ilyria asked. Greed shone in her eyes as she looked at the coffin. As part of the party, she would receive part of the sale. As would Sam and Madoc. If they survived the curse.

“Oh, it’s priceless. It needs to be in a museum or in the care of a university,” Tieurl responded confidently.

“Real world Tieurl, not a holo,” Ilyria said with a soft sigh.

Gom was storming up to them before Tieurl could respond. The short gnome was furious, his pale blue skin a deep blue as a stream of curses curdled the air around him. His long fingers were clenched in tight fists as he stomped toward their group. Madoc had a feeling that their free time was about to come to an end.

“That tightwad Captain. You know what he said?! Do you!?” Gom half shouted as he stood before them. Madoc decided now wasn’t the time to try an empathic smile, instead he just melted to the back of the group and let the rest of the brunt of his ire.

“I do not,” Ilyira said, sipping from her can.

“He said that he will pay us 10k for the coffin. Period. Not each. Oh, and in corp scrip too!” Gom was trembling in rage.

“Fuck that. That’s nothing,” Ilyria said, outrage starting to darken her features. Madoc didn’t know what the difference was between corp scrip and everyone else's currency, but again, he decided now wasn’t the time.

“Exactly. The beacon is lit and people will respond. I’m staying on the ground with the coffin till we get a better price,” Gom said. He looked at the others, clearly intending for them to say they’d stay.

“We fought hard for that coffin. I will not be robbed of my reward,” Sam said. There was a hint of anger in his voice. Madoc could empathize with him. He had led the way, breaking the horde of the undead with his giant warhammer. He would want true compensation for his efforts.

“Agreed,” Madoc chimed in. He didn’t want to leave the planet just yet. There was something in the air, something that pushed at his cultivation. He could feel the weight of his wings, pulling at the skin on his back, begging to be released. Now, he was slowly starting to realize that there was an imbalance. He had plenty of divine aether circulating in his body. Prayer and logic worked deep into his very bones so that he was brimming with divine power. There was an emptiness though, a void inside of him that he was starting to discover. Madoc was sure that was why he hadn’t been able to release his wings.

“Good, we will be forfeiting our pay from destroying the horde to buy out Crook-Tooth’s and the other goblins' shares.” Gom turned and marched away before anyone could protest the cut in pay.

“I think I’ll be staying as well then,” Tieurl said. ?Her fangs were flashing in the afternoon sun as she stared at the sarcophagus hungrily.

“You Frontier people are unhinged,” Madoc whispered under his breath.