Novels2Search
Koronos the Kazarian
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: TAKING IT PERSONALLY

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: TAKING IT PERSONALLY

It’s hard to not take it personally, Koronos thinks to himself after being crucified and all, and he feels compelled to seek revenge and to reobtain the Sword of the First, just as soon as he regains his strength and health. The Purifiers could have killed him outright, but their leader specifically commanded them to crucify him; and they do enjoy good old-fashioned crucifixions and sacrifices.

According to their demented beliefs, doing sacrifices brings them the favor of their deity, that deity is The First, however, she only recently ascended to deity status, or something akin to it. It’s something that cannot be explained to mortals because there is no frame of reference within the context of our meager, limited, finite and linear temporal existence, but they don’t know this, nor do they know that she doesn’t favor sacrifices except self-sacrifice. Fanatics will be fanatics, and there is simply no reasoning with them, they only understand one thing; violence, and Koronos thinks to himself that he will be more than happy to oblige.

Koronos heals quickly, within a few days he is fit to travel once more because of his fast-healing abilities that come with being an Everliving, and he wastes no time in pursuit of the Purifiers. At first, the group is unsure if they can track them after so many days have passed while Koronos was healing, but soon they come across a small village, or at least what is left of it.

Bodies of the Purifiers’ victims hang rotting in the trees, farm animals slaughtered, the cottages burned down. Because of the smoke from the smoldering fires, it’s kept the buzzards mostly away, so the bodies are mostly whole still, aside from the wounds and injuries inflicted from essentially being tortured to death.

Through the Bond, Shelove asks Koronos, “what is all of this for, what is wrong with humans? I understand killing for food, but they leave the bodies to rot.”

“Do not try to make sense of things that make no sense, these are fanatics that believe in nonsense, this nonsensical belief gives them justification for murder, nothing more. If it wasn’t for their belief, they would likely be hired mercenaries, murdering for pay because it’s plain to see they enjoy killing,” says Koronos casually in response.

Skullcrusher interjects with his deep but strangely smooth voice, he’s actually a good singer on the rare occasion that he sings, “it’s certainly some kind of madness. These Purifiers are dangerous and need to be stopped, I want to kill them all.”

Koronos doesn’t respond but merely nods in agreement, then continues on the path by nudging his horse forward.

After this, it becomes clear that their trail will be easy enough to follow through the winding mountain passes and pathways and across valleys because the Purifiers gleefully leave death and destruction in their wake; they slaughter the innocent, murdering men, women and children, burn cottages and small villages to the ground. For this is the Purifiers’ way of doing things, however, they are completely unaware that Koronos is slowly gaining on them as they murder their way back to the sweltering humid jungles of Samira.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Within a week Koronos and his group are only a mere day behind their quarry, and they have crossed over the Helfire Mountain range and are at the Isthmus of Samira, it’s the only narrow strip of land that connects Samira to Titans. Unfortunately, it’s also a vast, nearly impenetrable swamp with gigantic swamp trees that defy comprehension. This vast dark swamp sees little light because of the thick canopy overhead. They reach a small village where they could normally find a guide to take them through the swamp, but the Purifiers already killed everyone there, forcing them to search for several days to find another small village.

Corvannafax does the translating, her people have had limited interactions with the people on the edge of the swamp from doing trade. Communication is difficult and slow, but they do manage to hire some guides. The swamp people are of the same ethnicity as the other people of Samira; pale skinned tribal people with dark shades of hair, often worn in mini braids and adorned with exotic bright colored bird feathers. Samiran people have a bad reputation as being murderous thieves and liars, but these are outdated stereotypes from hundreds of years ago, they are mostly honest, hard-working people these days.

So at first light of the day after spending the night in the village, they head out, guided through the winding treacherous pathways of the swamplands. It’s midday when they see it, or more accurately hear it, the loud crack of the wings of the legendary Thunderbird of Samira, through an opening in the canopy Koronos sees her, a great eagle with a wingspan of the six men lying head-to-toe. He is covered in magnificent iridescent and bright red, yellow and black feathers. Koronos attempts to make contact, and he reaches out through the Bond and raises his hand to focus, and like a thunder crack in his mind he makes contact.

“I am Koronos, what are you called?” Koronos queries the great aerial predator.

Taking his time, the great bird eventually responds, “I am Sky King, this is my domain, and I have ruled these skies for one hundred turns of the seasons,or more, I lost count. Although you are a curious little creature, you are still my food if I catch you, so stay hidden in the canopy, little man-thing, I will say no more,” and then he abruptly closes off the Bond.

Shelove is just a bit too big to be prey, even for a bird of such a great size, so she is mostly unconcerned and merely glances at the sky for a moment to reassure herself that she is safe from the aerial hunter. If she was just slightly smaller, she might very well be on the menu.

The rest of the group of bodyguards, save for Pericles the sword master that remains stoic, simply stare in awe, their jaws dropped open; they have never believed that such creatures existed in the world, and stories of such things were just that; stories. But the Samiran guides drop prostrate and begin to say prayers, it’s a deity to them. There was a time, thousands of years ago when it was believed that the Samiran Thunderbirds were extinct, back when this region was a vast wicked empire, but since the empire fell and the people became a scattered, tribalistic peoples once more, thus the legendary creatures of Samira have returned.