Marduk travelled with five men, Graeme, Diarmaid, Ewen, Fegus and Artair, from the village of Sabine in a rotation around the perimeter of the village to deal with any of the mushroom warriors that continued to show up since the initial attack two days ago. All the men were dressed in red tunics, dark trousers, leather boots and iron plating over said boots, greaves and pauldrons with chainmail shirts and wielded a large dagger on their hips, with a sword or spear in their hands and a large round shield slung over their shoulders.
While the Saurian was still wearing the loincloth given to him by the Harpy and had his obsidian blade on his hip, he walked behind the human men acting as their rearguard keeping an eye out above the men.
Despite the need for his attention he decided to rely on his instincts while his mind wandered to the conversation he’d had with the village's resident demigod yesterday, they had talked about all manner of things eventually settling on a topic she thought would be most prudent for him as he travelled.
Golden eyes like hers meant someone was related to one of the younger gods, whereas blood red with golden specs meant the person in question was related to one of the older primordial beings. Though of their fellow ‘god touched’ she warned him to steer clear of any red eyed persons as they were the strongest and also the most delusional-
‘Augustus has red eyes’ He’d replied at the time and the woman’s heart just about leapt out of her chest.
He remembered the Áes Sídhe had deep red eyes and had supposedly been of divine origin, but he’d not asked the man about it seeing as it wasn’t relevant at the time. That and the grey skinned, pointy eared man had been too busy trying to learn as much as he could from Marduk about his people before he set course for The Great Basin.
They’d also talked about their abilities discussing what they were capable of, he found the conversation refreshing in a way, like a small weight was lifted from his shoulders though he wasn’t entirely sure why. He’d talked about his being able to understand all languages once they were spoken to him and it later being rectified to allow him to speak them as well. The blonde woman cursed him for it as she’d always something useful like that, but instead she’d only been born, stronger, faster, more durable and naturally good at harnessing magic for spells not that she’d been any good at incantations- cursing her godparent for it in jest.
“Marduk?” A voice called from just in front of him breaking him from his memory of the conversation.
It was Artair, he was the youngest of the men in the group at barely seventeen, he had short scruffy brown hair and dark coloured eyes.
“What’s wrong?” The Saurian asked, focusing his attention of the forest around them to make sure he hadn’t missed anything.
“Oh! There’s nothing wrong! I just wanted to ask you a question!” The man raced to assuage his concerns and say what he wanted to. “Is it true you won against Blair in a fight?”
Unsure where the line of questioning was going, Marduk took a moment before nodding his head.
“Since you did, she’s been the happiest I’ve seen her in the decade I’ve known her, so I wanted to say thank you.” The man smiled genuinely.
“I.. ah okay?” He wasn’t really sure how to respond.
“The lads her son, an’ he’s right she’s been a sight more giddy since yer fight.” Ewen added in an attempt to explain it.
“Adopted” Artair corrected to clear the air about why he didn’t have the apparent divinity that the woman shared.
“Aye- she’s prone to picking up the lost and damned!” Graeme laughed before Diarmaid jumped in.
“Been all our mothers at some point! Long lived like her get bored and take on orphans to pass time.” Diarmaid had a slightly blue tint to his dark black hair, though his eyes had a speckle of gold in the brown giving Marduk the impression the oldest of the men was actually related to the woman despite what was said.
“How old is she?” The Saurian couldn’t help but ask and the three older of the men, Graeme, Diarmaid and Ewen laughed like it was some kind of in-joke.
A furrowed brow on Artair’s brow preceded his answer “sixteen?” he looked to the other men who gave varying degrees of agreement.
“sixteen? That doesn’t sound right” Marduk's thoughts spilled from his mouth.
“Sixteen hundred” Fergus corrected with a roll of his eyes at the other mens antics, if the Saurian had been drinking he would have spit it out.
He’d never heard of a mortal living so long, then again he’d only known about his people and the wildlife of his old home prior to leaving so it wasn’t all that surprising.
In fact he’d been told while learning from Sophus’ wife Geneva that most people of the world didn’t live longer than fifty years, with exceptions in the Fey Folk, Krijn and his own people of course. Apparently the Krijn could live for almost five hundred years which was often why they were subjected to slavery because many of them were born apathetic to the passage of time and didn’t care to waste a couple decades in servitude.
Marduk wasn’t very comfortable with the way the Centaur woman had phrased it at the time saying ‘Some men are servile by nature’.
“Alright! There’s no sign of the Myconids! We’re heading back in!” Diarmaid’s voice broke the Saurians' thoughts as the group turned toward the village barrier not far from where they were currently walking.
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Arriving back in the village the celebration for the Umbra Festival was in full swing already, long standards of black cloth embroidered with golden stitching depicting a female deity were hanging down from just about every which where they could with the pyre and effigy made of wicker and thatch of said hooded robe wearing god on top of it was now had an arm around two figures, one hunched and the other young and small.
The people of Sabine were cheering with bright expressions as they drank and bellowed in merriment festivities in full swing.
Across from the wicker statue ready for burning were a pair of wooden thrones outside the largest building in the village, on the first throne was the dark haired, purple eyed leader Grizel who wore a gentle smile as she watched her people make the best of a joyous time. On the second throne was a blue eyed brown haired man named Bruce, he was Grizel’s husband, though Marduk had only met the man for a few minutes when he first arrived.
The Saurian said goodbye to the men he’d been patrolling with and walked toward the village leaders hoping to watch how things played out in the celebration. As he approached them the couple greeted him and let him sit next to them, Bruce took to speaking with him as he asked questions about the event.
“Ya see how the women’re dressed in dark robes carrying lanterns on their staves?” The blue eyed man asked waiting for the Saurian’s nod before continuing. “They’re offering themselves up fer bein’ a vessel for Umbra who wil’ use it to help send our dead along the way to Kur. when the time comes you’ll be able to send yer’ girl on her way as well.”
Offering his condolences Bruce patted the lizard man's shoulder with a sympathetic look, sadly for the Saurian he was back to feeling null and emotionless again, something about the gathering dampening his senses.
‘Festival of the Dead’ the words floated in his mind causing Marduk to let out a depressive sigh breaking through the cold blooded wiring for a few moments.
‘I wish I had more friends…’ He complained internally wondering if everyone he made acquaintances with would keep ending up dead or on the other end of the continent from him at a given time.
His time in the Basin was something he hated toward the end, but before he and his family were scorned for all being cursed he had friends, or well the closest thing Saurians as a people got being friends. Which was to say by way of their code for living everyone was equal and everyone cared for one another, which made what happened with his mother being scorned for developing the Curse of Self early not sit right with him in more than a few ways.
He’d begun to wonder if the ‘Four Great Beings’ were at fault, if it was them directly punishing his mother and their family for something he’d been unaware of.
But he’d met Zäna and she seemed remorseful? Or he thought she had? Didn’t she?
No… that wasn’t right, she had said she was happy to have his mother back with her and that his mother loved him…
Had they made his family suffer just to take his mother into the afterlife?
The longer his mind lingered on it the less comfortable he felt about seeing any sort of admiration for the gods he’d grown up with.
He knew gods were fickle, that they were selfish and you shouldn’t place trust in them, but…
Stolen story; please report.
‘They weren’t meant to be like that…’
“Blink an’ you’ll miss it Marduk.” Bruce’s voice broke his thoughts directing his attention toward the women dressed like the god of the festival, an enveloping darkness consumed the group from below as everyone watched in awe before the darkness was broken by the explosion of soft white light that quickly released the group.
At the centre of the women was a glowing spectre of a golden haired woman with red eyes and pale tan skin wearing a warm smile imposed over the visage of another. The sea of robe wearing villagers parted from the chosen and removed their robes revealing their normal dress as the deity spoke-
“Thank you all for this wonderful celebration” The god's voice was inside his head, it didn’t come from anywhere, but appeared in his head like she was part of his thoughts.
“If you bring me the dead now I can allow you one last conversation with your loved ones.” Her voice was soft and warm like a hug as she radiated a presence of serenity while walking toward where many of the dead had been laid out waiting for burial after tonight.
The Saurian found himself mesmerised as the people waited next to the dead while the red eyed god lifted a hand into the air and the staff in her other before the light of the lantern she was holding turned blue and wisps flew out of it quickly finding a body and the dead rose for long enough that the people of the village could give their love to them and bid them farewell.
Minerva shot into his mind as he watched the god briefly return the souls of the dead for a final conversation, but he squashed the idea of it, he didn’t want to be face to face with his failures again. It was hard enough looking at her corpse when he was told she died, but to talk to her again just for her to leave moments later? That was an awful kind of torture he wasn’t interested in.
So he just sat watching the whole ordeal unfold.
The whole ceremony was over before long with the god being thanked by all those who got to say goodbye to their loved ones and the souls returning to the lantern before the possession was undone and the god left with their own farewell.
After Umbra departed the festivities kicked back up again with the pyre being set alight with cheer.
It wasn’t until the night was nearly over however that he was approached by anyone.
“You didn’t see yer friend off.” Aodh stated with a raised brow and tired green eyes, he’d clearly reached the end of his night and was going to sleep after he finished talking.
Marduk grumbled something incoherent causing the human man to sigh.
“Aye I understand how ye’ feel but- dat was yer’ only chance to make amends wit’ her.” The Saurian stayed quiet.
A few minutes of silence passed between the pair as they stood in the firelight of the village centre, the crackling of embers gently filling in the background noise along with other quiet talking.
With a shrug and a sigh of defeat Aodh changed the subject. “Yer leavin’ morro’ right?” he asked and the Saurian nodded his head.
“Don’ go bein’ a stranger Marduk, I owe ya’ my life, I’d like to pay it back.” With that Aodh turned around and left him to stew in his mind.
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“Stilicho!” The voice of Raizel called again full of love and desperation as she approached the man in question.
The amber and red eyed man watched her in confusion as she completely dropped her guard and seemed to all but give up on the fight ignoring the shouts of the crowds and announcer who were telling them to continue fighting.
Raizel stopped in front of the partially human man with her blue eyes focused on his broken arm.
“I’m sorry about that if I’d know it was-” She reached out tentatively-
Clap
The sound of skin slapping skin resounded as Gaiseric backhanded the womans giant hand as he jumped back, she stared in stunned silence mouth agape at the man who seemed feral. Being forced to look at him again she realised how destroyed his body was, the last time she had seen him he had barely had a handful of scars on his arms so his current state with hundreds of different wounds now scars over his body was alone a massive difference.
“Stilicho don’t you remember it's me, ____” Her name sounded like garbled noise in his head causing a searing pain to overcome his mind.
“AAAGGGHHH!!” He clutched his skull falling to his knees and before long blacked out from the pain.
Before his face hit the sand the red skinned woman caught him and he was thrown over her shoulder, a glint in her eye was all those in the stands had as warning before she broke into a sprint- far faster than she had in the fight crossing the distance of the hundred metre round arena in less than ten seconds before leaping up into the stands and then again out of them.
A loud noise followed as she crashed into the ground outside the amphitheatre and started a sprint again headed through the village around said arena barely getting out of its bounds before slowing to a walk as her lungs burned with all the pain of a thousand suns.
As she walked her mind turned to what had caused her friend to black out.
‘It’s just like they said… he’s cursed to feel pain at our memory’ a sigh left her lips as her face twitched unnaturally.
Magical energy swarmed her before her demonic appearance altered and warped into something completely different, she now appeared a tall scorpion Arachne with deep blue chiton with bronze tan skin, dark brown eyes and long black hair tied into a ponytail. She threw the unconscious form of the golden haired man over her back and skittered off into the desert after orienting herself and remembering which direction her friends were waiting in.
Her choice of taking the form of an Arachne was pure and simple with the war that raged across the deserts of Maláka between the Emerald Queen of the East and the Lapis King of the West, the two dragons having been warring for almost three centuries personally seeing to the birth of many half-breeds to fill their ranks as their people fought in an unending conflict of immortals. Her choice though was because the Agate Scorpion tribes who were neutral traders in the war who were given free passage by both armies.
So she hoped she could pass unimpeded.
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Arriving at the gates of Zaros, Marduk immediately noticed how lavishly dressed the town was inside its tall stone walls, its wealth resplendent with rare pigments enriching rooftops he could make out. Many of the homes were a white brick with deep azure coloured tiles on their roofs with other wooden buildings sporting vermillion tiled roofs.
There wasn’t a sound in the town, dead quiet, as though they had all up and vanished.
It was eerie and unnerving, setting off all kinds of red flags as his instincts screamed at him to leave.
But against all his body’s will he continued into the streets of the ghost town, that was at least, until he saw a perfectly detailed statue carved of stone. It was too perfect and by the time he stepped close enough to the statue of a burly human man dressed in a tunic and trousers with a hand raised as he was trying to block his eyes from seeing something.
As he reached out to touch the statue something in him screamed and he yanked his hand away just in time to stumble out of the as a monster tore across the street with a deafening screech as it stopped opposite of the Saurian.
“Holy shit…” He cursed, staring up at the enormous monster.
It was half the size of Ochre, which was to say still enormous, it was like a black and green feathered Griffin with a roosters head and brownish scaly skin making up the wattles and comb with a large sack of flesh hanging from his wattle making him wonder what it was until the deep violet eyes of the beast glared into his with animosity unlike any other he’d been subject to. Rearing back on his hind legs raising its front chicken legs and wings bellowing out, the sack ballooned in size as the monster sucked in air-
“Mother Fu-”
The entire street was completely enveloped by a dark grey plume of smoke that emanated from the beast in a torrent of heavy air, the nearly black smoke of the monster's breath cleared away some five minutes later revealing an empty street. This sent the monster into a rage as it thrashed around and tore through several buildings bucking and kicking like a bull.