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Kalon
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Chapter Thirteen: Vitar
Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant
Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation
Solar System: D-447
Planet: Ora
Location: Beneath the planet's surface, Naro City, Mines, Upper Reaches
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The chains to the lift sing a melody of death as the platform slowly descends. Nekam barks orders for us to move to the tunnel marked empty where we have made camp. Those from Yuri’s tribe who have been doing secret things in the tunnel once marked death come to join us now, their bodies are ragged and bruised. Covered in dust from hammering stone. For what reason, I suspect we will soon find out. Heavy breaths fill the air as we wait around the bend of the tunnel, trying to block the light from the lanterns.
We dare not extinguish our light yet. The orders from Nekam are passed slowly between us. As the words are passed down there is fear rising in the group. When he reaches Arrum and me, he leans in close speaking only loud enough for us to hear.
“You will take Keno alive when the time is right.” Nekam says, squeezing our shoulders tightly “Do this and you will have earned your place in the tribe.”
So he thinks it is Keno descending the lifts? How many will he have brought? Do they know we are here? Is that why they come? Or is it for Etherium? Their guard could still be sick, perhaps that is why, then all of this… all of Nekam’s plans. My eyes look at him deeper, he has planned this, I can feel it in the way his eyes look back. There is no surprise, only confidence and the calm. How long has he planned this? The bundle of weapons, how much has he planned? What happens next? My eyes try to search him, but I cannot see it all, not yet. Something is going to change, for better or worse, he has bet all of our lives upon it.
Arrum looks at me, he knows it will be dangerous to complete this task, but there is still excitement in his eyes. We have longed for this day for many years now. Finally, our time has come. Regardless of the risk, we will see it through. We must, if we are ever to advance our station, it is now.
“You cannot fail this.” Nekam says, pulling our heads together he says in the old tongue “Vitar.”
Its meaning, strength of will, spurs the courage within. Something we will need desperately if this is to succeed. I feel my heart beginning to rise in tempo, my hand shakes until I clench it as the warriors blood fills me. I must harden myself before it is time, these hands will know death today, the knot in my stomach tells me this much.
Nekam moves to the others, giving every group their instructions. When he is finished, we begin interlocking our arms in a long line, Yuri leads the front, Dekarn the back, and Nekam the center. Arrum, Nevari, and I are all in the center near him. I am glad for it. As we interlock, we make the treacherous journey through the darkness toward the sound of Barnak’s blooded tribes. Judging by the noise they outnumber us at least three to one, perhaps four to one.
It is nerve-wracking to walk in the shadows, knowing that at any moment we might be pulled into it, never to return. Becoming food for the Shulka that lurk in the darkness’s embrace. When we have exited the tunnel, we crouch low, moving in a line towards them. When we are all out, we stop in unison, waiting for the signal.
Keno seems to be in charge, barking orders at the other tribes. There are more than just Barnak’s blooded tribes here, almost all of their close allies are gathered. They number more than a thousand. Sekat, more than three to one. The only relief is that they do not search for us it seems. They pull at a chain connected to a person in the early stages of Netherium sickness, much like the gaunt man was the first time I saw him. There is no mistaking the half-red eyes that pierce the dark and the ripples of red energy that pulses across their skin. I hear Keno’s voice echoing through the tunnel.
“Where is it!” Keno yells, I hear the unmistakable sound of flesh striking flesh “Hurry up Ulima!”
“Here… here my chief!” a voice cries “There is so much light from here, more than anywhere else.”
The shuffling of boots against stone echoes.
“Hurry up! Father wants us back before the end of the day!” Keno roars.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, telling me it is time. We move in a line again, still interlocking our arms, our lanterns extinguished. My chest thrashes again, holding firm with Arrum and Nevari’s arms. The lurkers will take some of us, but if we show ourselves, Keno will order his army to turn on us, taking our advantage away. I feel tugging on my arm, Nevari presses closer to me, her body in step with mine. Her breath is heavy in my ear. Her hand trembles. Were it not for only a short time ago that she wished me to sacrifice myself for her brother’s failings, I might find more comfort in it. My jaw flexes, it irritates me that despite what she asked of me, I still find her touch a salve to the despair around us.
“Hold!” Keno yells loudly, pointing for his guard to investigate a noise.
More than half of his entourage are already down the tunnels. Our numbers are becoming more even now. Our group encircles them slowly. I hear shrieks for help cutting the air as some of our people are pulled by Lurkers. The yells disappear as quickly as they do. My teeth grind from the nerves, Nevari and Arrum’s hands grip me tighter now, I can hear their breath becoming uneven as a pull comes from only a few people down. Sekat, we need to hurry.
Keno raises a hand for people to stop moving, hundreds of lanterns are held high above heads as they squint toward us. Still, Nekam has not ordered any lanterns to be lit, nor will he. If we light now, we are dead. We must get into a better position.
Another yell.
Then another.
Sweat beads on my brow, and my hands are moist with the terror that courses through me. My hand grips Arrum and Nevari tighter, if something comes for them, no, do not cloud your mind with hypotheticals, focus on this moment.
“What was that?” Keno asks loudly.
We are finally in position when Nekam breaks our silence.
“Now!” Nekam yells.
One hundred lamps ignite from our side. Nearly fifty Lurkers shriek loudly as they back away, exposed by the lanterns light, one less than a pace from me. My eyes are wide as I take in its features. Spikes of thin metal upon its elongated and hunched body. It wears the flesh of those it has slain upon it, hanging in strips. Some of them fresh, others grey and rotted. Its jaw shrieks at the light, and countless metallic razor-sharp needlelike teeth protrude from its mouth. Its face is molted and half-rotted, covered in rags of decayed flesh. The face of someone who went missing during the days before is crudely cut and placed over the top of its head. Its beady red eyes plunge open glowing fervently as it tries to slink back into the darkness, but it cannot, it is caught between our lights and Keno’s.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Focus fire on their lights!” Nekam roars over all the noise.
Shriekers from the tunnels howl as they hear the Lurkers cry. We press them back with light, trapping them in between Keno’s group and ours. Our spears thrust at them as we leave lanterns behind us to stop us from being swarmed from behind. We press them to Keno as our archers shoot out their lanterns, spilling fuel upon the holders, and engulfing them in flames. The others see this and abandon their lights and flee towards the tunnel once marked death. My jaw grinds as I hear the screams of those who die in the blazes of lantern fuel, so many more will die today, it is madness… stop, I must focus, my own life, Arrum’s life, these must come first.
“Steady push!” Nekam yells.
We move as one, holding our shields interlocked with spears pushing inward. Tightening the encirclement on Keno, the blooded tribes and their close allies. Keno desperately tries to flee, but Nekam gives Arrum and me the signal with a glance. My heart slams in my chest as I pull Maka from the air and push it into my frame, my pace exploding to match Arrum’s, his runes glow brightly against the darkness.
The calm flows as the cold seeps into my veins, hardening me for what I must do. I move in front, Arrum comes in my shadow as we glide through the Lurkers who hiss at us. Our hearts pound but we do not stop, we cannot stop, lest we die. They swing their clawed fingers at us, but we are fast and we are agile, sliding to our knees to stop our throats being cut and then rolling forward between them.
Keno’s eyes widen as he sees us approach. In the corner of my vision, I see Barnak’s firstborn son with an arrow in his eye, twitching on the ground. Soon the third born follows, engulfed in the flames of the lantern they clutched so desperately. So much loss… focus.
“On me!” Keno screams to his guard.
Most do not heed him, they flee from the creatures that follow behind us, being pressed forward by our group. Those that do heed him level their weapons at Arrum and me. My teeth grind as my blade finds grip in my palm. Blood sprays from the leg of the first that we cut down together, striking hard and fast. There is no time to think of those who will weep at their passing. We cut deep like we are trained, dragging our sharp blades along arteries and severing tendons as we go. The eyes haunt us as their face fill with panic, desperately trying to stop the bleeding.
Another comes in Arrum’s shadow, trying to stab him with a spear from distance. I feel one coming in mine, but Arrum rolls as I roll, each taking the others hunter, changing the dynamic in an instant. The one who came for Arrum’s eyes grow wide as he stumbles backward. Tripping over the charred body of another. There is fear in their eyes, so much that it causes me pause. The Sage’s teachings sting at the edges of my mind, the Ulima says cut their throat, slip a blade in their heart.
“Stay down.” I growl at them, moving to turn and help Arrum with his opponent.
My back is turned for less than three seconds and I hear the whistling of a spear coming towards my back. Spinning, I slap it from the air, slamming it to the ground where I kick it up and throw it back. Spit flies from my mouth as I yell in frustration at the man who looks down at his chest, blood seeps steadily as his eyes fill with confusion. Another set of eyes that will walk in my nightmares.
“You did not have to die.” I say, turning from him, moving to Arrum now.
Together we fell three, three more that will walk in both of our nightmares. The rest abandon Keno as they take to the tunnels, followed by the creatures our group presses after them.
Keno struggles to join them, but we cut the tendons of his heels, sending him to the ground, crawling. He howls in pain, begging and yelling for help that will not come as we drag him back. He swings wildly like his son did, hitting only the air. Arrum’s boot finds his head, it takes two kicks to make him still. We drag him back to our group, Dekarn, and Nekam now taking him from us.
“Do it now!” Nekam yells.
Yuri and his chosen few that spent days working in secret, rush into the tunnel with large hammers, pounding at metal bracing until there is a rumbling in the ground. Stone cracks and falls, sealing the mouth of the tunnel.
“Tend to the wounded, make a circle of light! We make ready before the lift rises!” Nekam roars.
It is chaos, yet somehow organized as all of us gather in a circle spreading out the light. Bringing the wounded to the lift. Some drag the corpses of their loved ones who were slain in the confrontation. Others hold each other, as there is no body left to take, the Lurkers who did not get trapped in the tunnel, surely feast upon them in the dark.
As the light rises, the tribe leaders count the numbers.
“Two-hundred and fifty-one,” Nekam says, after counting twice.
Forty-nine of ours have been lost since we came here days ago, but against the weight of their losses. None cheer for victory, none celebrate, there is solemness as we check our wounds and try to tend to the dying so the number does not increase.
“My father and the City Chief will kill all of you!” Keno bellows after waking up, laughing manically “All of you are dead!”
“Be silent,” Nekam says, tying his mouth closed. There is no disdain as he does it as I thought there might be, he is calm.
Nearly nine hundred souls are trapped in the tunnel. The rest of their original numbers, save Keno and those who did not get trapped we leave to their fates until our own are cared for. As they would leave us to ours. Such is the way of my people in times of war. Yet, as I move to the lift, my eyes travel to a young man around my age. He is chained at the joints, barely able to move, though not by us. It was Keno who did this. He is being held now in the circle with the others of the blooded tribes who yet cling to life. Hostages, like any who may survive the tunnel.
My feet stop as I see him fully, his head hangs low as he clutches a lantern in one hand. In his other arm, he grips tightly a person, the one whom they also chained and called Ulima. The one they forced to walk the edge of the changing. I recognize both of them, they are the red-haired brothers who were made to fight me alongside Henek. The taller one who Arrum injured, I realize now is the one they forced the changing on. His leg is splinted crudely. My stomach churns from it. Arrum’s eyes hollow as he sees what has become of them. There is no grin from him, only pity as he clenches his shaking hands. Looking down, I see that mine shake as well. Thoughts of those whose blood coat them still fresh on my mind.
Arrum pulls my shoulder to move me, but I stop again after a few paces as I am surprised by the words the shorter red-haired brother speaks to those who pass. He asks them to help his brother, he does not beg for himself. When none answer his plea, he hangs his head, praying to the gods. His words are loud enough for me to hear.
“Hempki, hear my prayer. I offer everything I am, please look after my brother… take from me what you will, but please… spare him.” He says, his eyes hum with bioluminescence, sadness filling them, his blue eyes mixing with the red of the Netheric Maka that courses through him as he tries to give his own Maka to stop his brother’s changing. It will not be enough, it is folly. He must know this, yet still he persists. He is in a great deal of pain, yet still, he does not cry for himself.
As others pass, he begs again, bowing deeply to them, sacrificing his pride willingly, asking them to deliver his brother from his fate. Nekam’s voice rips through the air addressing all of us. Pulling me back to focus for a moment.
“Half will stay and guard the hostages, keep the lamps lit, we will return before the night is over! The other half with me!” Nekam yells.
“We must go Kada.” Arrum says, pulling me harder “This is not our plight.”
The shorter red-haired brother does not beg anyone to save him like the others of the blooded tribes. Their screams cut into the air as they howl. He does not even pray for himself. This could be Arrum and me if our situations were reversed. My heart aches thinking of it. I move closer, my stomach turns in knots as I see the taller brother is not too far gone to save. It is possible to save him if treated today. It must be today though.
“Kalon, we can’t help them.” Arrum says sternly, then looking at me seriously “We can barely help ourselves.”
“If it were you.” I say, then turning to him fully “If it were me.”
“It is not us.” he says, pleading to me with his eyes “Do not take the weight of the world on your shoulders brother. You owe them nothing.”
Arrum is right, I know he is. I owe them nothing, they belong to an enemy tribe, Ulima or not. Yet, the words of the Sage play in my mind though as I look upon him.
It is not enough to simply survive, only with compassion can we as a people thrive.
It was not the only virtue he preached, but he said it was the one our people lacked the most. Owing to our station and the harshness of our reality, it often is looked down upon as a weakness.
My jaw rolls as my head hangs lower. Arrum and I have joined the others. Leaving the brothers to their fate. The chains rattle as the lift begins to rise. We are barely more than a hundred, the rest guard the hostages still and ensure the hundreds do not dig out of the tunnel. Nekam has not told us the next phase of the plan, only that we need to be ready for anything. Looking at my hand in the dull lamplight, I see it still shakes. Gripping it firmer with my other hand, I calm my nerves like the elders teach with the slow breath. It is not over yet. I must be ready.