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Kale

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Chapter Sixty: Udan Jan

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Present Time

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My hand shakes as I stare into the many eyes of this demented nightmare of a creature, Narok - Web Maker, does not give it justice. The grotesqueness of its form before my eyes is a true abomination of nature, much like the creature whose head I cleaved before Adonius’s in the Colosseum. Its body vibrates, shaking the stone floors. I draw the air into my lungs, breathing out with purpose until all that remains is the focus. Fear has no place within me.

The Narok hisses as it lunges forward, slapping its forward legs at the ground, sending tremors through the stone. My instincts tell me it is a feint, so I do not move, I do not show the beast my hand yet. Letting it be wary of me. As it shifts its weight, I see ooze coming from two of its back legs, and a gash upon the side of its abdomen. An opening perhaps.

The Narok lunges suddenly, I roll backward, not fast enough, its long front legs slam into me, sending me flying across the cave. My eyes bulge as I see my metal arm has bent from the impact, pain erupting from my ribs where it smashed into. I try to move my metal arm, but it does nothing. There is no time to think, I must move, I press myself up with my other arm, gripping the knife firmly.

There must be a way for me to…

The Narok closes the distance at unnatural speeds, pushing off with all of its legs leaping forward. Sekat, I roll to the side just in time as it comes crashing down, stumbling for a moment on its wounded legs. I see large bite marks now on them, cracks rolling up towards the joints. My eyes blink fast, this beast is much faster than I expected, its size should…

It lunges again, my thoughts pressing away as the calm forces itself into my movements. I feel a humming from my chest, but I cannot think about it, if I think, I die. My eyes hollow, as it lunges again, I am ready for it, the tempo I have already learned. I press forward, rolling under its belly, striking at the abdomen. The blade does not pierce its flesh, I roll again as the legs pound beneath it. I stab again and again, each time the blade presses in but does not find purchase. Its abdomen is flexible, but still, my blade cannot pierce the flesh. Sekat.

The spider lets out a hissing noise again and slams itself down, splaying its legs outwards, pressing my body down, the weight of it forcing the air from my lungs. The abdomen smothers me, I feel my chest vibrating more now. Sekat. Sekat. Sekat. I can’t breathe. The beast lifts, and I feel some of my ribs might be broken. With its spear-like fingers, it stabs me in the shoulder that has the metal arm, dragging me up into the air with it. It’s hot breath upon my face as it pulls me closer.

“Hekat’s tit…” Kotina says loudly, stirring in the cocoon of fibers “I really need to stop drinking.”

The Narok throws me against the wall and turns abruptly towards Kotina. I can barely breathe still. Blood flowing from my shoulder in a slow stream, I feel my hand wants to call for the Black Edict, will it answer my call? My mind flashes images of it going into my chest, I look down and see my chest glows a dull crimson.

“Slagging hells.” Kotina says, ripping the threads of her cocoon open with her bare hands “You’re one ugly…”

The Narok lunges before she can finish her sentence, but Kotina is gone, my eyes blink, she moved so fast I barely saw it. She slams her leg into the Narok’s, snapping it at the joint. Green ooze sprays out onto her.

“Ugly and rude, not a good combo,” Kotina says, kicking again, snapping another leg.

The Narok turns to flee, sensing a disadvantage, this is my chance. I roll into its blind spot trying to stab into the gash on its abdomen, maybe I can open it further. Amon’s voice appears in my mind.

Stay back, Udan Jan

My jaw flexes as I roll backward reluctantly. The truth of his words sting, but my pride does not control me as it used to. In the old tongue, Udan Jan means roughly – holding someone back. It is what you say when someone tries to help but only gets in the way. My eyes follow Kotina’s movements now, hoping to learn from them, it is all I can do.

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“Wait a minute, I wasn’t drinking… erm last thing I remember—is that bastard Dargo,” Kotina says, leaping on top of the Narok’s back and slamming her fists into the connection point of the abdomen and upper body. A sickening crack as she does it once more, the Narok trying to crawl away as it slumps to the ground.

“Yeah, okay Blade Master Dargo, of course I’d love a cup of tea. Slaggin—slaghole—slaggerwart—slagfarts!” She screams, stomping the Narok, its body breaking under her powerful strikes, spilling out ooze around us, splashing her in gore.

Her eyes are filled with anger, but within a few more kicks, her body grows still, her eyes close and she breathes deeply, much like we Kuwathi do to calm ourselves.

“Didn’t even get a sip and I was knocked out cold, anyways, what do you remember?” she asks, pushing the gore from her face into her matted blue hair.

“Dargo?” I ask her, confused. Does she know my Keeper?

“Bald slaghole, always has a bunch of swords, prone to talk in metaphorical slagsense,” Kotina says, flicking gore off her boots.

“I know him. But how do you?” I ask her, I feel the vibrations in my chest again. Now pulling what’s left of my shirt over my chest, I do not know her intentions, but she seems as confused as I am.

“Frag.” she curses, pulling a long steaming piece of flesh off her torso, now turning to look at me “Did he take you too?”

“I… no, I don’t know,” I admit.

“Do you know what planet we are on at least? And have you figured out where the nearest outpost is?” she asks, checking her armor. Trying to use her holopad, but it appears to be broken, with a hand-shaped indent in it, like someone intentionally crushed it.

“Outpost?” I ask her, trying to move my broken metal arm, but it’s no use, the servos no longer even try to move.

“Ravena’s taint… sorry Goddess.” Kotina says, putting her hands together for a second, like she is half praying, half apologizing, then rolling her neck “Well this should be fun.”

Managing to stand up, I realize my metal leg is also damaged, grinding as I move. Sekat.

“Okay so…” She pauses, crossing her arms and placing her hand on her chin, like she is thinking pensively “Given that that’s a Krothaspawn, we must be somewhere on the outer rim of the Galaxy. Only place you can really find them this developed that aren’t part of the…”

“Krothaspawn?” I interrupt.

“Slagging hells.” She sighs, looking back at me “You’re serious?”

I nod.

“So—you’re weak, clueless, and oh almost forgot, still a ticking time bomb, that sum it up?” Kotina asks, though I think it is rhetorical, she has already started moving through the cave, toward where the beasts roared before.

My jaw flexes, not at her saying the words, but at the truth in them. I must make myself useful so she doesn’t leave me to die here. Otherwise, I will never find the others. There is still life in my bones, a life that seeks to make good on my promise… to burn the House Helenius to the ground with my people. This promise gives me strength as my legs rise in tempo to meet my will, moving my pace to match hers.

“Right, how versed are you in…” Kotina pauses, looking at me as she moves swiftly in a long stride “Probably not versed in much are you?”

“I am a quick study.”

She chuckles, shaking her head, swearing under her breath.

“Well, lesson one. Identify your surroundings, make a grid from your point of origin…” She looks at me again, stopping as she turns and pulls me by the shirt towards her.

My eyes go wide as she looks downwards.

“You going to stop the bleeding or are you still trying to die?” she asks me, pointing to the wound on my shoulder.

I had forgotten, the Narok must have some kind of numbing factor in their finger spears, it had stopped hurting a minute after. I reach for my tattered shirt, trying to rip a piece off.

“You’re going to shove that nasty thing in there?” she asks, looking at me sideways.

“I don’t have anything else.”

“Frag. Just frag. Common, take off your shirt.” Kotina says, waiving her arm up and down, an annoyed expression on her face.

I hesitate for a moment, not wanting to reveal the Black Edict that might still be glowing under my skin. I still don’t understand what it means, but I can only assume she will kill me if she finds out.

“You will be truly useless if dead.”

My jaw tenses slightly as I pull the grimy shirt off. The outer and inner weave armor she had given me barely held together still.

“Looks like you had one hells of a fight.” She says with a smirk, putting her finger through one of the holes mouthing the word ‘bang’.

She looks me over, turning me around, doing a once over.

“Strange, looks like the effects of the cursed Edict have subsided for now,” Kotina says pensively, squinting at my skin.

To my relief, the Black Edict remains dormant as she looks.

“Right—looks like just a couple of bones and that wound. Should be able to fix most of it. Provided we find an outpost.” She sighs.

There’s that word again, what is an outpost?

“This is going to hurt,” Kotina says, now straightening her fingers, the glove of her armor retracts back into the arm, folding into the patterns, much like her helmet did in the ice cave.

She places her bare hand over the seeping wound, closing her eyes and breathing out slowly.

“Feel the rise, push the flow, concentrate it.” She mutters under her breath, her brow furrowed. Her hand begins to grow warmer.

Lines of light flow up her hand into her palm, concentrating in the center of it, illuminating her skin, the heat from her palm begins to rise until steam flows off it. My eyes take it in, how is she doing this? I feel a burning sensation radiating from the wound. It is hot, like the barrel of a plasma rifle after discharging many shots.

Her eyes open now and the heat dissipates from her hand, she lets out a full breath and then draws in the air.

“Right—let’s move.” She says, turning about and walking towards the light of the cave’s entrance.

I look down at my shoulder, the wound sealed with a burn. Sekat. She did this without an Edict, my legs move to follow her, questions finding my mouth.

“What was that?” I ask her as I pull my shirt back on. My legs struggling to keep up with her long strides.

“They really teach you Kuwathi nothing.” she sighs, flexing her fingers back and forth three times, her armor rolling back over her hand.