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Part IV-Chapter 17: Nubia/Archaeans

Part IV-Chapter 17: Nubia/Archaeans

Nubian Serpent Queendom

The messenger slithers into the Main Chamber twisting around the horizontal support beam quickly then with its long think body then branching down to the next parallel beam before slowing as it slides with chest leading onto the warm tiled floor of the audience chamber of Queen Kha’theth.

‘’My Queeensss…’’ it hisses with a forked tongue tasking the air ignoring all others in its eagerness. ‘’I bring gloriousss newsss from the front shssss.’’

The Naga Queen of War is stoic, it’s entourage of advisers, aids, warriors and generals hissing amongst each other performing their duties or just gossiping insignificant things. The Queen of War waves her hand for the messenger to continue whilst assessing the situation of much-needed manpower to supply the front with ready warriors through the crystal globe under her ministrations.

‘’Shsssaaa shsaaa,’’ the messenger hisses boldly bringing unto itself the attention of almost everyone in the vaulted highly secure chamber of a naga Queen. One of the warriors Cobra’s that was coiled behind her living throne slitters forward with killing intent blanketing the room as with the slightest of signals from its master it gets ready to kill this upstart of a snake for its prideful provocation.

The Queen gazes at the messenger for its boldness only now noticing the high rank and power eminating from its 3rd level Awakened aura. It has been many decades of stalemate between the Celestians and Nubia empires and only on two occasions has the front ever felt the need to send a messenger so close to the 4th level and thus elevation into the nobility of Nubian society. She takes her right hand off the crystal with its information, reports, forms and orders flowing through to humour the messenger with her undivided attention.

‘’Shaa,’’ pleased the messenger preens glorying in the attention of the queen and all in the room as it erects and scratches it’s scales in an impressive display of control. ‘’the Celesstiansss are retreating.’’ It says proudly with its forced tongue again sliding between its fangs so it better tasts the emotions in the room.

‘’On which front,’’ one of the generals asks pulling her own crystal globe between her breasts showcasing her own 4th level power by the display of spacial magic.

‘’All of themsss…’’ the messenger says silencing everyone in the room. All breath, tongues fork out as everyone takes in this unexpected declaration by a captain messenger of the 3th level. It slitters forward slowly reverently holding up a glowing crystal the size and shape of a small grape for the 5th level Queen of war to access to verify his bold statement.

The crystal floats to the queen’s hand slowly landing n her callous palm then brightening with an inner cloud of light as the queen sees the situation in the front. She sees the Celestian warriors pack their camps and retreat, she seeing the scattered ‘permanent’ camps that have been reinforced with wards just left empty without even traps left behind as the camouflaged Vipers and Daudins infiltrate said camps. She sees on various fronts where the Celestian were thoroughly dug in they leave, taking everything with them except the permanent structures built during the course of the nine-decade-long war.

‘’With this news you have bought your life Messenger,’’ she says with the widening of her pupils and the spraying of pheromones giving away her excitement. ‘’Ensure he gets milk and females to warm his nest as he pleasesss,’’ the queen says to and aid the quickly leads away the still proud messenger captain.

‘’Send this to Ta Seta as quickly as possible, do it personally, I will be going directly to the Blasted Lands to assess the situation at the front,’’ she says directly to her most trusted general floating the crystal over having already copied the information within.

‘’With a contigent of 500 of my finest warriors I ssshal inform the Empresss with all hasst,’’ the general says with slithering away with three of his aids quickly following in his wake.

‘’Spread the word to all the warriors, the Celestial Empire has retreated!’’

Shaaaa!

Shsssss!

Everyone celebrates, emotions running wild with pheromones permeating the air, many will mate this day the expansion of great Kush can now continue until the whole continent is part of the empire, and maybe some day the world.

*

Archaeans

Close to the equator of the world far from Pangaea and its myriad empires, kingdoms, queendoms, nations and tribes that rise and fall in a matter of decades like the fleeting winds of an elemental storm. Far from Terra with its wild equilibrium where the beasts know their prey and predators, friend and foes in a cycle of life and death that slowly fosters strength, holiness and oneness with Gaia’s Nature.

Closer to the supercontinent of Atrium where the Celestians make their home, an engineered society of warrior elite humanoids that is the brainchild of an authoritarian ruling immortal being that long ago made a deal with a deity. Across the vast Panthalassa Ocean whose depths houses billions of intelligent aquatic species, whose edges kiss five of the eight supercontinents found on the planet.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

On the supercontinent of Laurasia where no human has ever been born, where beastmen know themselves only as men and ‘demi-human’ is a paradox that has never been uttered. Across unnamed lands and unclaimed deserts through valleys of acrid smoke and acid rains, down winding paths to depths in dark caves that are the doorway to the Lost Lands. Past the Elder Tree forest the Blasted Land and halfway up Storm Peak’s Range are 14 pools of shimmering hues of silver that glitter under the wrathful gaze of the sun that keeps the land for thousands of kilometres around barren of almost all life. There 24 men and women of the Conclave chosen for their strength of spirit and growth of soul wait to chose which of the shimmering pools of acid they each will activate their ritual in.

‘’All I need to do is walk in and the ritual will happen spontaneously right?’’ Asks one of the candidates sceptically looking around at everyone else after their unseen host’s direct mental instructions.

No answer is forthcoming and though they have only been in the unnamed desert for a short period of time already some of the first tier beings are struggling not to melt or simply burst into flames under the harsh gaze of the sun. They’ve finally made it, an exhaustive journey with the team of pathfinders crossing half the world in only a few months to reach this place and they are told to walk into pools of acid?

He looks around at his companions. Though there wasn’t much time to socialise they have gotten to know each other fairly well in the audacious journey and all are aware of his scepticism and realistic nature, though some may call it pessimistic. As a slaver, a thief and an aristocrat he has seen the dark side of human nature and trusting anyone or anything that claims to give free power is folly. The man known as Hagan steps forward raising a shield up to umbrella himself from the harsh sun and faces the 23 individuals that have made this journey with him.

‘’We don’t even know what it is that spoke to us, we could be binding ourselves to devils.’’

‘’We came all this way,’’ a tired woman, one of the pathfinders says with feeling.

‘’The human is correct, what if this thing we are consigning ourselves to is malicious, stupid or disfigured? I for one am not willing to trade anything for a racial trade of a species I’ve never even heard of before the selection,’’ a man with white skin, pointy ears and a regal continence says proudly. He will never admit that he chose this path during the Meeting because he lost a bet and could no longer go with those aiming for draconic traits.

"Show yourselves, let us know what we are to join ourselves with,’’ the only psion of their group projects mentally close to the frequency at which they were spoken to.

‘’You cannot see our bodies with your eyes of flesh, nor touch us with your mortal hands,’’ the disembodied voice says creepily. The undertone of many voices in one almost sounding like an echo accompanying each word.

‘’Then what traits are we to inherit from you? We have come a long way for these blessings,’’ Hagan says waving his arm. ‘’What is it exactly that you are willing to give us and at what cost?’’

‘’We are the Watchers of Worlds, an Elder Race, the first immortals. We are ageless, resilient, wise... But no one can know what trait you may inherit as this has never been done. ‘’

They look at each other, taking that in but quickly the one having the most trouble in these harsh conditions steps forward. ‘’What is the cost?’’ She says struggling in her mana buble to keep herself from bursting into flames.

‘’The cost is death,’’ that shuts everyone up except one, a ghoul named Seth that has already experienced death.

‘’If you are disembodied creatures how can you have physical traits for us to inherit? I for one want nothing of my soul tempered with by any creature or godling.’’

"Your soul and spirits we cannot influence but you will die and those strong enough be born again in new bodies, flesh of your flesh blood of your blood but also more. Children of intentions, how that eventually manifests we cannot say but is the map written into your own blood that we will use to build these new bodies.’’

The woman in a bubble reaching the limits of her mana reserves is the first to rush to one of the pools, the topmost one as she knows she cannot go back empty handed.

The others watch as she wades into the pool, displacing the water around her bubble such that she remains dry until she is standing in the middle of the shimmering pool of acid.

‘’Drop the atomic gem at your feet and hold the soul-stone in her fist and direct mana into the sigil drawn onto your flesh, the rest we will do ourselves,’’ Come instructions for thin air. She drop the atomic birth molecules on the ground and holds tightly to the soul stone, taking a deep breath she directs the last of her mana into tattoo which results in her protective bubble failing. Acid rushes at her burning her clothes into tethers and her skin completely sloughs off.

Her eyes pop and melt from their sockets, soft tissue desiccating and falling apart in mere seconds even before a coherent scream of pain can be expressed from her throat. Her flesh separates completely falling apart with her abdomen and intestines burning away like dew under a noonday sun. She completely dissolves whilst alive, barely held together by a sigil of power that glows on her flesh while everything else around it burns away, her soul just barely tethered to the remains of her meat sack by a glowing gem in a bony hand devoid of any flesh. The atomic birth molecule bursts into life linking to the sigil on the remains of what was once a person. Its red glow is all that’s visible to all those watching the pool boil and bubble where the woman has submerged herself.

The psionic women’s mind breaks even as she desperately partitions that part of her mind that on some level experiences the pain of the short woman who is being dissolved alive in the most excruciating pain she has ever been linked to. As another part of her mind threatens to break from the pain pervading through she knocks herself unconscious with a thought one of her companions catching her as she fall instinctively. None but her actually knows the pain the other is experiencing so when there come a voice saying, ‘’another step forward into the next pool down the path.’’

There is no hesitation from the one called Shadow as all of the can feel the power of the transformation taking place in the first pool.