With introductions completed the elves and eclipsiarchs gave Liam a quick run down on the last thousand years of history. The ‘Free Panterians’ were initially the remnants of Taloc’s army, those who saw him ascend into heaven on a lightning bolt from Talocandel. They were also the ones who had witnessed humanities’ betrayal, when human magi assassinated every eclipsiarch they could find. A tactic that had been largely successful, even leaving Nynzo with scars that would never heal. They’d taken his testicles, cut them off and kicked him out of Talocandel without a second thought. They’d done it to every felinid they captured, castrated them or worse to every eclipsiarch woman. Then left them to die. A fate tens of thousands had succumbed to.
For not a single eclipsiarch guessed the depths of humanity’s hatred for them. Nor could they fathom the power of their jealousy. Whispered into life by Pandora’s servants. Who began a reign of persecution that had seen the felinid race go from humanity’s saviors to a broken and enslaved race, without magic. Or hope, save for Taloc’s return.
Most eclipsiarchs had died, leaving only the current trio as known survivors of the betrayal. Taloc’s schism with the mortal realm brewed a hatred within all of them. They had fought, gathering escaped slaves and fighting from the mountain jungles that Liam now sat in the center of. Over hundreds of years the felinids had grown in number, but not in magic, for no new eclipsiarchs were born, nor could the pantherian bloodlines evolve magic. A few umbraquins were born, cursed mutants that never felt at home with their fellow felinids, always destined to vanish without a trace. Regardless of how loved or cherished or attached their families were. Liam winced at that, Archbishop Matimeo had spoken of ‘Taloc’s call’, a sort of mental compulsion that forced him to integrate into human society. It was the same compulsion that had given him the determination to file his teeth flat and cut off his ears and tail, then perform the same barbarism on Niana. The memory made Liam shudder, and he tried to hide his discomfort concerning umbraquins, but it was clearly evident to all present.
“Want a drink?” Asked Nytaro, offering Liam a plastic bottle of bottom shelf tequila.
“Oh god, tequila in a plastic bottle? You trying to kill me?” Said Liam a welcome smile crossing his face and driving away evil thoughts.
“What’s tech ki lala?” Asked Nytaro, trying to pronounce the name.
Which began a side tangent about how one could bake a cactus in order to refine the precursors to tequila. A conversation that sailed far above their heads. Eventually ending in an explanation of ‘Ark’. The tree was Raina’s ancestral home, and only the royal family or their most loyal retainers were permitted to enter the tree’s inner chambers. Nekohiro had made an exception for Liam only because she sensed his lightning affinity when she’d purr-ified the spider venom. In fact, it was Nekohiro who had first heard of a ‘rescued elf’, making her the one who had made a room in the Aelorn trees available to Liam. Since they were generally reserved for foreign dignitaries, or conducting royal business outside of the white tree’s interior. A sort of elven auditorium, or retreat.
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For the Ark was a special place. Reserved for royalty alone. A moniker that now extended to Liam as a Lightning Lord, and a brief tour of the building confirmed Liam’s initial thoughts, as the honeycombs of lifeforms extended for miles. Though there was no visible control panel, or interface, or screen of any kind. In fact, the only space that wasn’t lined with occupied honeycombs was the ‘throne room’, a glorified living room that seemed to provide anything one could ever want. Which is where all the rabbits came from, as well as the grass. Nekohiro wanted to play with them and so the room provided her with ‘friends’. Who she was playing with now, having shifted into her serval form and was slinking through the grass, waiting to pounce on the rabbits.
Liam waited until she was out of earshot, then turned to Raina, his face growing serious.
“Your timelines are off. Nekohiro is too old to be half eclipsiarch, and she smells off, there’s something wrong with her genetic makeup. She smells identical to you, and nothing like Mewro. Besides humans and eclipsiarchs can’t breed, and I know elves and humans struggle greatly, so it makes no sense that an elf could mingle with an eclipsiarch. Not after Taloc altered them from base humans. So,” Liam kept his voice low, leaning in so only Raina could hear. “How did you do it?” Asked Liam, raising one eyebrow as he called out their deception.
He’d collected each fact throughout their conversations, and tour of the tree. It was easy given his absurdly enhanced sense of smell. A byproduct of perfecting his body with magic.
Raina, ever the regal royal, glanced at Mewro, who looked longingly at Nekohiro. His jaw clenched, and he nodded once. A signal for Raina to continue.
“I did… There is a hidden room where only my direct line can enter. It’s a strange room, with steel magicks. Like a smithy of lights and words that Taloc used in his day. My family has kept records of how he used the tools, so that we may pass them on to our children. But I am the last, I had to! There was–”
“Spare me the details. I want to see this room. Lead me to it and don’t unlock it.”
“Don’t unlock it? You aren’t planning to break into it?” Raina said, her eyes going wild, “It’s our sacred duty given to us by Therun Perun Taloc! Don’t you dare damage anything–”
“I’m an elf aren’t I? Let’s see if Taloc actually had a purpose in fucking me over with this body’s birth.” Said Liam.
Taloc, even if this laboratory opens up for me, you’re still a god damned asshat for making my ex birth me.
A tingle entered Liam’s mind, similar to how he spoke with Quetz. Though the voice was familiar, one he’d heard before. Aboard Taloc’s prison…
‘Blah blah blah. This is your third body, I gave you exactly what you asked for. Don’t blame me if it comes with a little weirdness! If you think you’re so smart, just try getting into the inner sanctum.’ Said Taloc, then the mental line went dead, as if the imprisoned god had hung up on him.