Three hours later, Misaq arrived at the local market of Doab, this time ready to buy and eat. Though it shamed him greatly to do so, he had accepted Jubair's offer of quite a lot of Saudi Riyal, the ever-existing currency of Arabia. While the foreigners deal in copper and silver, the Arabs preferred gold. It was an easy market, the Arabs gave the others gold and received resources in return such as bodies of water and plentiful men. These were guarded carefully and jealous. Even now, as Misaq passed through the slave district, he could see the broken faces of countless children, now bent over like dogs, ready to serve there would be masters at a moment's whim. A sad situation but nothing new. After all, the Mamluks thrived on slave soldiers, the kind that would endure any hardship while being utterly loyal. No, loyal was not the right word. Obedient, yes that was it. Those lucky, or unlucky enough, to still be hopeful were often sent to battlefields, where any new slaves would be comforted by an old slaves face because it implied to them that their lives had not yet ended in their capture. A false flag of sorts.
To dwell on it was to invite misery onto himself. Misaq began to hunt for food and a blacksmith. To his great surprise, he found them right next to each other. He sat down in a restaurant and ordered roast lamb. During the wait, he took notes of his equipment. Misaq was dressed in a thick white salwar kameez and an ornate white hood. On his arm lay the Hidden Gun, with a carefully hidden compartment for the bullets to be placed in. Misaq could barely hold in his laughter.
I got something that could tear down a wall and here I am, grinning like an idiot.
Misaq then saw his plate of lamb arrive. He spent a couple of Riyal and began to dig in, devouring the lamb in a couple of minutes, much to the amusement of nearby goers. While swallowing the tender meat and drinking the fresh milk to soothe his taste buds of too many spices, Misaq began to wonder about his current situation. He had gotten attacked, his stores robbed, beaten to near death, awakened with magic, captured by Hassassins, tortured by a kind executioner, and rekindled a romance with his best friend. Still, he felt as though nothing had changed. He didn't have any scars, he'd leave Jabbir behind again and Jubair had no wish to continue a romance. Pondering upon the nature of his reality, Misaq almost missed the flying chair until he heard it crash. He turned towards the noise quickly and in a panic, got the meat stuck in his throat, causing him to gasp as he tried to spit it out. Unable to do so, he instead swallowed and overheard a conversation. Well, to say he overheard would be an understatement. The whole district could probably hear it. One voice sounded very rough and just as much.
"NO, NO, NO! A THOUSAND TIMES NO! I don't care if God himself is in that place, I am not going back there! Allah may actually be there from what we've seen, you ignorant fuck!"
"Belial, you are being overdramatic. Now, how about you sit down so I can start BEATING YOU TO DEATH FOR ROBBING MY BOMBS!"
"I NEEDED THEM!"
"AND I NEED YOU, I CAN'T DO THIS ALONE!"
"FORGET IT, I'M GONNA TOSS THE NEXT CHAIR AT YOU!".
The two well-built but angry-faced bearded men glared at each other with a fury unimagined. Like the kind between a jilted lover and a traitor. Desperate to finish his meal in peace, Misaq went over to the two men. Already as he approached could he tell that they were not from here. They wore chainmail armor with a gold-covered plate at the front and a chainmail helmet. Their legs and arms consisted of leather armor, possibly to allow for far more movement. They were also quite scared, the first looking through someone had precisely cut him over the lips, eyes, and nose whereas the second had massive Xs strung across his bare arms and face. Before Misaq could say anything, the one with precise cuts huffed and puffed, then turned and walked away. Misaq considered retreating, seeing the dispute was resolved. He looked at his former position in the dining room, now occupied by a beggar eating his meal.
Oh my God. Well, I'm here now so I might as well see what that whole argument was. Misaq now saw that the man seemed to be losing his anger and regaining his composure. Now was probably a good time to say something.
"Asslam-O-Alaikum," Said Misaq, a plain greeting to start things off with.
The man tilted his head. While his body may have been composed, those eyes looked wild with rage.
Uh oh.
To his astonishment, the man calmly replied with "Walaikum assalam." With that, he started to walk away.
Well, you've come this far, keep talking.
"Wait," said Misaq. The man waited for a moment, then continued walking. Stupefied, Misaq blurted out his thoughts "What was that argument about?"
A now phlegmatic Arab, the man observed Misaq under a steely gaze. He sighed before muttering a prayer that Misaq could not catch. To Misaq, he proclaimed "I am a treasure hunter. My name is Abdul Mutilid. I come from the southern regions of this sandy area. Me and my partner were having an argument where he used my priceless inventory to escape from a pack of wild dogs. I have no doubt that they would have killed him, however, I was still in need of his aid, therefore, as a way to pay off the debt made through the use of my items, I offered that he come with me to finish the job. It would have been impolite for him to say no and when he did, I insisted rather rudely, resulting in what you just saw. If that is all, I shall take my exit from this cursed land." He spoke the last word with venom.
Flabbergasted, Misaq could only say "How big is a pack?"
This clearly seemed to catch the man off guard who replied with "Uh, 25."
"25!? No wonder he abandoned you." This turned out to be the wrong thing to say, as the man's eyes seemed to redden. To diffuse the situation, Misaq stated "But if they've been dealt with, I could help you out."
This stopped the man in his tracks. He appeared to be lost in thought. Maybe he would just say no and this conversation would be over. Or the curiosity inside would really kill him this time. He bellowed " We cannot avoid the popularity of the solipsism mentality, can we?"
Misaq, amazed at the man's range of vocabulary, uttered out a singular "What?"
The man, Abdul Mutillid, responded by saying "Neverminded. I needed a second person to stand on the platform that raises the bridge or so the riddle goes. I guess you'll do. I'll give you a discount, 10 percent for this trip."
The businessman and mind trickster within Misaq awoke at once. They forced Misaq to say "13."
"15. Wait."
"Done."
"Damn it!." The man did not sound displeased, though he tried to fake out. Alarm bells rang inside Misaq's mind but he had a rifle this time and carried a hidden sword at his back, carefully woven in to appear as white as the clothing he could wear. Misaq felt invincible.
XXX
Mutilid revealed that the so-called 'cave of horror' was nearby. Misaq proceeded to travel to it. For once, he felt excited. He had the ability to push people really far away and had 2 guns, with a total of 12 bullets. Of course, they wouldn't be able to do much damage if hit in the wrong place. Additionally, said guns often jammed and broke up. They were side weapons, after all, melee weapons don't run out of ammunition. Plus, there were ways to stop bullets. Fighting plate armor was the prime example.
Mutilid did not appear to be a man of the desert. Indeed, sweat poured on to his clothing, it being linen, a light, cool fabric derived from the flax plant, wool, or sheepskin. He walked with slow lumbering steps, his eyes darting everywhere, in search of a seemingly invisible foe. Though he kept his face still, Misaq could sense his true feelings: frustration, that a fat man in pajamas was not even mildly fazed by the horror of living in the desert. Misaq had sensed it in others before. Truthfully, that was probably the reason why obese people existed in a harsh terrain; they had simply grown used to it. Admittedly, the rate of infection and disease was quite high, Misaq could attest to that, but at the very least, anyone with proper footing would know how to follow the trails hidden in the sand.
They left the market and travelled to the cave. Along the way, they found sand, more sand and used markers on dry cacti as a way to tell if they were getting lost. Eventually, they came upon an area with dried grass. Scattered amongst the grass were various types of pretty flowers such as Blood lilies and Jasmine. Upon closer inspection, Misaq saw that the Blood Lilies were not lilies at all but in fact, Red Acacia, one of the most beautiful flowers in the world. Misaq grabbed a bunch and stuffed them into his satchel. In the process of tucking in the flowers, Mutilid gave Misaq Achillea, medicinal flowers plucked from supposedly nearby. Pleased, Misaq put them into his satchel as well, blissfully unaware that they had not come from anywhere near their current stop.
After a short rest, Misaq and Mutilid walked and found a large rock formation. It resembled a dock of sorts, with 2 large and long straight rock formations that seemed to curve towards the back and a small, rounded center. Plenty of bizarre hills existed beyond the sands which were never to be explored due to being considered as the property of Jinns. A fable, to be sure. Beasts, disease and other men were threats enough. Misaq and Mutilid walked to the rounded center. Only to get shocked upon seeing that it was not rounded at all, it seemingly bent towards the top, like the Kaabah, giving the illusion that it was rounded. Beneath were a set of pillars and 2 extremely large green doors that gave the impression of being made of stone due to their rigid structure, but upon touching the doors, it seemed that they were made of wood. Rough wood, that was not meant to withstand the test of time but wood nonetheless. Mutilid put his gear down, consisting of a pair of swords, some strange powder, flowers and tools, and began spreading his hands over the doors. Oddly reminded of a massage, Misaq coughed and dared to ask;
"What are you doing?"
"Looking for a slab of stone."
"It's made of wood, dipshit."
"No, it is not. There is wood on the outside, like a layer, but it is stone within."
"How could you know that?"
"Experience."
"You can't even reach the top. How do you know there's treasure buried here?"
"Experience."
"Listen, wait, what?"
"Experience."
"Shut up, I hear something."
Misaq's sight flickered. Suddenly he was in a dark room, filled with iron and snake-like arms. The world seems a haze of blue, red and gold. Was it raining blood or were the lights just deteriorating? No, that was not blood. They were sparks, of the kind made during the tempering of steel.
Flicker
Misaq saw a land, covered in fire and blood. Bangs reverberated throughout the place, shocking Misaq of his senses. The fires of heaven seemed to strike the earth and pieces of molten metal flew into flesh, their gore invisible from a distance but the screams sending Misaq into a state of despair and agony.
Flicker
He came across a vast forest, full of insects that seemed to ignore him, flowers with teeth and stone that leered at him. Above, a massive beam of pure light, pure energy struck the earth, carving its way through a mountain to arrive in front of Misaq. It took the form of a man with wings who spoke words that meant little to Misaq.
"Sorry Qasim, there is a bit of a malfunction with the device. You're reliving the days of World War 4. Probably the machine is integrating your memories of Miles into this one. I'll just find the rogue bit of code and delete it. If anything goes wrong, we're pulling you out. Then it’s Adam’s turn" The voice seemed dull. The figure, on the other hand, was moving its hands around in rapid fashion. The forest began to vanish. Before Misaq could utter a word of questions, the figure pointed at him and grabbed his face, engulfing him in darkness.
Flicker
"What?" cried Misaq. This time, much to his pleasure, he was back in his world.
"Shut up, this is like the 4th time you've asked." said a now annoyed Mutilid. Something had happened. Something Misaq dare not speak of. Insanity, to be sure, was prevalent around these parts. Best to forget the whole experience, as he had forgotten the bandits and Jabbir.
"Found it."
"Found what?"
Mutilid pushed into the door, revealing a stone switch that caved inward.
"There's one on the other side. Get a feel for it and we can move this door together."
Misaq did as he was told. He started feeling the beat of the door, to find a place that did not match. Mutilid chuckled a bit.
"You touch that door like I would a lover."
"I assume you've had many lovers."
"Oh yes, many. An understatement to be sure. Most of them were unwanted."
"Excuse-woah!"
The stone part moved inward. The door, impossible, moved upwards, managing itself into bits. The path revealed looked bigger than the outside containing it. And were those... sparks at the edges? Mutilid did not seem to care. He lit a torch, where did he get that?, and walked in. Out of options, Misaq walked in too. The cave was a singular narrow bridge of stone that went over a dark stream of water, its edges sharpened, as though the river was itself unnatural. The stalagmites were rounded, a mockery of the whole path. Never in his life did he think he could see rounded spikes but he was not altogether ungrateful for it. Until he realized that the flatness meant that if one of them did fall, there would be less chance for one of them to get away. A spike was a precise shot, these looked like they could cover a much larger area. Taken aback by the whole experience, Misaq bumped into Mutilid, who responded by unsheathing one of his swords. Upon facing Misaq, he sheathed it again and merely gave a look of disapproval. He moved forward in the path.
So far so good. Maybe this cave goes down.
It was painfully obvious that the cave did not go down. If anything, it seemed to go up. Or maybe Misaq was just tired from walking. Amazing how such a wonder could be so near but so carefully concealed. There may have been other tombs or treasures, all hidden under the weight of the dirt. Misaq started feeling cold, like snow had just appeared. He silently chastened himself. Snow, in a desert, what an idiosyncratic thought. Soon, the duo came upon a black door. Mutilid ducked down and sprayed sand across the door, making sure his torch stayed away from it all. He then beckoned Misaq backwards and dropped the torch onto the sand. He stepped back, then forward when he realized that nothing of note had occurred. Misaq wondered if the cold was getting to him. Mutilid knocked away the sand and replaced it with a kind of black and white powder. He re lit the torch, stepped back and threw it into the powder. This time, Misaq's world burned brightly as the door exploded forward.
"What the fucking fuck? What was that shit?" Bellowed Misaq.
"Magic." replied Mutilid, with a mischievous grin upon his face.
"I'll show you some magic. Take-foof."
It was snow. In fact, some of it has just blown into Misaqs mouth. Spitting it out, due to the yellow snow tasting really bad, Misaq ventured out to the outside of the door. Much to his bewilderment, he was now a mountain. A large mountain. Right next to him was the edge and he could only see clouds down below. The path was a bit larger, with space for camping around. It was also covered in snow with warm winds. Warm winds on a mountain? Mutilid was not even nonplussed. Shrugging at Misaqs questioning looks, he ran forward. Misaq ran alongside him, a thousand questions on his mind but unable to choose the right ones. Misaq blurted out "Why'd you need me?" Mutilid was clearly distracted, for he did not pay attention to Misaq and instead started running a bit faster. Misaq struggled to keep up. A straight wall was visible up ahead, with cracks large enough to hold human hands for climbing. Someone had been here.
Mutilid paused to climb, giving Misaq the opportunity to talk.
"You've been here before, haven't you?"
"What gave you that idea?"
"Your friend, you said he used your powder to fight off a legion of wild dogs."
"So?"
"That many wild dogs? Here?"
"You are questioning me now, this is close to the end?"
"It is precisely because we are so close to the end that I can question you."
"Hmm, I got a lot more balls than I thought. Here is the truth of the matter: My friend thought he had seen 25 dogs. An exaggeration obviously, Alastor always did spin things out of his control. There were most likely only 6. He believed there to be far worse evil up and above. He refused to pay me back and left."
"That does not warrant him throwing a chair at you."
"Believe me, if he wanted me dead, I'd be dead. That was a show of force, to remind me that though he is a dog, he is a dog unchained."
Misaq stepped back from the man, unsure of what to say next. His mood was off, very different from when the argument was going on down below. What kind of answers did he want? Would it be helpful to know if he was going mad or if magic was truly alive and well? Curiosity has killed many men. Still...
"How did we get here? There's no snowy mountains near Doab."
"Is that what that city is called or just the market? I'm not from here you see.
"I don't care what your story is, tell me how we got on this bloody mountain."
"Through the power of friendship and determination. What do you think? Through a gate of wonder. Best not to think too much into yet, humans can produce wonders as well."
With that, the conversation ended. Mutilid and Misaq climbed upward and arrived in a temple of sorts. They entered through a gate, broken in half one anyway, onto a stone platform. The walls were rounded and red, ugly shades of red. And the smell, for a brief moment, reminded Misaq of when he witnessed his cousin give birth, a horrid smell, which vanished as though masked by a figure who wanted them to smell it. Afraid, Misaq turned back and in the corner of his eye, saw a shade of black move. He tugged at Mutilid's shoulder to point at the shade, hiding on a raised platform. There were 4 such platforms each carrying pots. Mutilid understood Misaq's words and left the temple to press on. Not wanting to tempt fate, Misaq pressed on with him. They came to what looked like an arena, with ice covered walls, pits and green gases spread nearby. There were cracks in the earth but it felt solid enough.
"Finally," said Mutilid at last "We made it."
"Made it where?" questioned Misaq.
"To the end of our journey, for beyond that gate lies the pyramid I seek."
"We came to a mountain to find a pyramid?"
"It is a small one. You'll want to see, I suppose. But I'm afraid that won't be possible. This is where we part ways, permanently."
"Bye."
"Ye- You're just leaving?"
"This could be personal for you. I know what that means. You can just give me the reward later, back in the market. I'll be around the blacksmith at noon."
"And if I don't show?"
"Your choice, man. I've been around long enough to know that it's better not to ask questions you don't want the answer to."
"Smart boy you are. I wish I had half your senses."
A third guttural voice entered the conversation. "I'll take all of your senses away."
Misaq and Mutilid turned back to see a group of skinny men. Their arms and legs were thinner than Misaq's. Their muscles were scarred, of the physical and medicinal kind. They wore little to no armor and the only real protected region was their crotch. Their weapons, somehow, looked brand new. They were broadswords with intricate designs of serpents on the side and were double bladed. Misaq recognized one, held by a man with long black hair. An estoc, it was called. It was characterized by a cruciform hilt with a grip for two-handed use and a straight, edgeless, but sharply pointed blade, clearly different from the rest of the blades here. It was useful for cutting through chainmail, as Jubair often liked to say. This person did not look like Jubair. His face was twisted inwards, as though it was not meant to exist for as long as it did. One of them wore heavy armor with heavy weapons, clearly the big guy of the group.
Misaq was worried. A group like this didn't exactly feel like speaking, more like killing, raping and eating them first. If their teeth were any indication, it was that they had not eaten well in a long, long time. Their mouths dripping with saliva and their eyes were looking everywhere. Misaq had seen such a group before. They had been slowly tortured to death by the Mamluks for cannibalism. So much for politics, it seemed that the Mamluks did do good every now and then. Misaq wish they had done a bit more and glanced at Mutilid. Mutilid was sweating and his fingers nervous. A moment passed, followed by seconds of tension. Then one of the group, the one with the estoc, spoke.
"I'll take the fat one. You take the scrawny one. We'll split it evenly." The group began moving forward.
"Wait! I can feed you." said a desperate Misaq.
"Feed us what?" said the group.
Before Misaq could answer, Mutilid unveiled a crossbow. Surprised at the mere presence of weapons, Misaq watched him load a bolt as did the group. He unloaded it and fired straight into the neck of one of the men. The one with the estoc. He went down without a sound.
The men were filled with rage. One of them shouted "REAVERS! ATTACK! THE BALLS ARE MINE!"
Reavers. So that's what they're called. Misaq ran towards the wooden door while the men surrounded Mutilid. Misaq tried to push open the door but it didn't budge. He saw Mutilid one last time to hope he could at least one more down. A Reaver in heavy armor lunged at Mutilid with a war axe and hammer weapon type combo and a horrified Misaq could only watch. Then, something unexpected happened.
Mutilid adjusted his step, circling to his right -- just outside the reach of the hammer swing. Mutilid then revealed his curved swords. The Reaver leaped forward, the hatchet lashing out at Mutilid’s neck. It was a marvelously delivered blow, the weight of his opponent trailing behind the ax head as it whirled toward him. Waiting behind it was the hammer, held high in preparation to swing down and shatter bone. A less experienced fighter would have expected the hammer to come first, but Misaq had never doubted that the first strike would come from the hatchet. For all the swiftness of the Reaver’s attack, signs of his intent had been readily clear to Mutilid as well. The hatchet was in his enemy’s left hand, and as it snapped toward him, Mutilid stepped forward and to the outside. He slammed the pommel of one of his swords and his other forearm against the Westerner’s arm, blocking the blow before it could even be fully extended.
Mutilid had a choice to move right or left, behind or in front of the knight’s body. Moving in front meant that he was exposed to the man’s weapons, but it also meant his own could come into play. Moving behind the knight would put his own back to the man. As the hammer came hurtling down, Mutilid darted to his left.
As he moved, his left hand came up, and his blade slashed across the gap between the base of the man’s helm and his neck, on the off chance that the armor was weaker there. Metal rang off metal with no sign of blood, and Mutilid had no other opportunity to investigate his blow as the knight’s hatchet blade came whirling past his nose.
The only reason the hatchet missed was because the move was one Misaq himself knew -- the whirling arm-over-arm assault that seemed, to an untrained eye, to be an impossible tangle of limbs. It seemed Jubair making sure that Misaq paid attention to his fighting had been worth it after all. Mutilid knew the form too. That the Reaver knew it was a surprise to Mutilid—even more so that he would attempt it with disparate weapons like the hammer and hatchet -- and it was only pure instinct that had warned him to pull back. As it was, the blade of the hatchet passed less than a finger’s width in front of his face.
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Mutilid did not wait around to see if the Reaver was capable of continuing the whirlwind. The angle was bad, and his blades were not meant for stabbing, just sideway cuts, but he jabbed the one in his right hand up into the Reaver’s left armpit anyway. He put as much strength as he could in the attack, and the Reaver collapsed around his weapon, a muffled grunt of pain coming from inside his helmet.
The Reaver jerked backward, and the blade was torn out of Mutilid’s grip. Instead of trying to retrieve it, Mutilid grabbed for the shoulder of the man’s coat, getting a fistful of cloth and mail. The Reaver was off- balance. It would be easy to throw him now. Once the man was on the ground, the superiority of his weapons would be negated and it would be much easier to cut him.
A line of blood came across Mutilid's back. Mutilid had become vulnerable when he had lunged forward as shown by The Reaver managing to twist the hatchet and planting it into Mutilid’s les armored back. His legs and arms still worked, so the hatchet had missed his spine, but the strike had split his leathers. Snarling like a wounded beast, Mutilid drove his right knee into his enemy’s groin, sending the man reeling. His back muscles must have shrieked in agony as the Reaver tried to hang on to the hatchet; finally, Mutilid managed to twist away and pull the handle from his opponent’s fingers.
His teeth bared in a feral grin, Mutilid’s hand found the haft of the hatchet and pulled it free. Now he had a more suitable weapon for taking on multiple opponents. The other Reavers were abundantly not completely insane for they jerked back out of fear for getting hit by their friend's hammer. Mutilid dropped one of his swords. Now with a sword and hatchet, he braced for impact.
The hammer swept down, and Mutilid darted to his left, sweeping the bloody hatchet up to slam its handle against the shaft of the Reaver’s hammer. Even before the shock of the contact rippled all the way up to his shoulder, he was already turning his wrist, letting the momentum of the hammer carry it past him. He was inside the Reaver’s guard again.
Misaq could see that the man's neck was protected by the hammer so disarming him would have been the next best step. He began loading in the Hidden Gun, ready to take aim and fire, only to see that he did not need to. Mutilid smashed his hatchet into the Reaver's face. It resounded backwards but the damage was done and the Reaver fell backwards, relieved of his weapon. As the Reaver fell, Mutilid slashed his sword across the chainmail of the Reaver's left arm, neatly severing an artery, causing blood to flow out in the form of a shower and bone to become visible. The Reaver fell and could not move his arm. Unable to see the issue, he attempted to wiggle around the earth, perhaps in a vain attempt to breath life into his deadened limb. Then Mutilid took off the Reavers helm with a kick and smashed his hammer into him, ripping off his teeth and eyes.
The battle was over in less than 2 minutes. Mutilid then said "This is a much better weapon."
The Reaver with the Estoc spoke commanded the others "Go around him! Try not to walk into each other's swords. One on one looks pretty bad, We-."
His words were cut off when everyone heard a really loud band. A bullet from the Wheel lock hit against the blade of another Reaver's sword, jarring it but not breaking it completely.
"Oh, come on, I missed it?"
The Reavers then charged at Misaq. Misaq revealed his light weight long sword, ready for battle. Except, knowing sword techniques, using them quite another. A Reaver knocked the blade out of Misaq's hands and kicked him backwards. Due to being overweight, he was unable to regain his balance. As the Reaver raised his blade, a second sword emerged out of the Reaver's chest. Mutilid stood with an impression of pure glee
The 4 Reavers attempted to bum rush Mutilid who rather politely held out his sword. The Estoc Reaver swung at the sword, which was pulled back at the last second, a taunt of sorts. This messed up the Reaver's balance who tilted to the left, promptly getting stabbed by his own ally. Before the friendly fire could be acknowledged, the naked Reaver who landed the killing blow was struck down by the hammer as well.
And then there were two. They tried taking Mutilid down by attacking from different angles. They may have succeeded had Misaq not grabbed one of them from behind and thrown him into a pit.
Crunch went to his bones. He mustered a scream. Now it was two against one. Misaq finished reloading his weapon. While pointing the Hidden Gun, the final Reaver felt fear and ran away into the green gases. He stopped, choked and collapsed.
"Well, at least we know the gases are poisonous." said a sarcastic Mutilid. Misaq could not hold it in anymore, he went over to the pit where he had tossed the Reaver and vomited. Upon seeing the fresh corpse of the Reaver, he vomited more, now under the belief he had just damned himself to the lower corners of hell. Mutilid approached him, but what he would have said was unknown for recoiled and began robbing the now dead Reavers for possible loot. Misaq wiped away his mouth. Is this what he had come to? He had robbed the dead, enjoyed a man's company far too much, become a part of the criminal underworld and now he had been killed. There was nothing left to say about what kind of person he was, only the mad could enjoy violence. And the definition of insanity was far too broad these days.
Mutilid re approached him and spoke once more
"Let us continue. We are so close to the end."
I...give me a second to process this all, man. Thought Misaq, his mind a whirlwind of different thoughts. I came out here for a walk. To use a pistol for intimidation. And you...you butchered those bastards.
I'm glad you're not looking directly at me, or you'd see my piss stained clothing.
Misaq looked up. He was breathing hard, his muscles sore from all the activity. He felt his lungs collapse and slowly pick themselves back up again to repeat the cycle of collapse and repair. His fingers were numb and his legs shaking. His body threatened to fall, right then and there with a witness in tow.
Then Misaq remembered his friend, no, lover's words. To think about yourself first and others later.
"I killed someone. That man will be there to judge me when Allah returns."
"He would have killed us. We didn't have a choice."
"We could have talked, surrendered maybe."
"Do you want to die? I will admit, surrendering is always an option, but these guys were hungry for blood."
"They were just hungry and out of their minds with it. And we answered them with cold steel on this accursed mountain. Oh fu- fine. Let's finish this bloody thing, then I am going to go home and repent."
With that out of the way, the duo finally reached the door and pushed forward, entering an area that was a bit disappointing. There were stone slabs as steps and pillars scattered across them. The pillars glowed with a red and blue metal, likely a color texture made by the ones who lived here before.
Before... Hang on, who exactly lived here? Who are we robbing? though Misaq. He knew better than to ask questions like those that got people like him killed. He had just seen Mutillid cut down warrior after warrior, like a demon from the pits. He had no intention of pissing him off. In front of them was a mysterious light that originated from a really small pyramid next to a large roundly grey shaped rock.
"Is that it?"
"Yes. You may go."
"We came here for a ROCK?"
"Glass. Now, Leave."
"Not this time. I killed for you, I need to see this through."
"...Very well. But"
"No buts, let's get this over with."
Misaq moved to grab the pyramid and stepped onto a stone that went in deeper than the rest. Two of the pillars slid down slabs off of them, revealing holes that started releasing flames. Misaq, however, was preoccupied by another sight; the rock was moving. It definitely had the composition of a rock with odd cracks here and there. The thing breathed in and out, jutting out spikes near its head. It was inhumanly large and tall. It had a disproportionately large head, abundant hair, unusually colored skin and a strong body. If the alarm bells were ringing before, they were screaming at Misaq now to run away. So Misaq did exactly that. He quickly ran around the flames, leaving Mutilid to catch up. The two went outside the door just as the creature noticed them. With their combined effort, they sealed the door shut.
"What is that thing?" cried out Misaq.
"I don't know."
"Use your powder on it."
"I can't use it that way. I gotta plant in the ground or on a surface. Otherwise I would have used it on those Reavers. By itself, it doesn't do a whole lot of damage. It catches on fire and pushes people back."
Spirits of the damned
GIANT OGRE AND TRAVELLER DUAL BOSS
Commencing Deliverance soundtrack
Misaq was about to argue when he noticed that the corpses were moving. Blinking out his tears, he attempted to stand tall when a series of words flashed through his mind.
Spirits of the damned? Jinn? Or am I just going crazy? This music is pretty good though
A shard of ice exited one of the corpses. Misaq and Mutilid stared in horror and interest as the Reavers rose to life once more. One of them began to cover himself with ice. His eyes spoke blue and summoned a shield of steel and frost. In his other hand was gripped a ball that seemed to emanate sheer cold from it. The other Reavers joined him. The one who had died to gases was green, his body lined with slime and pores releasing toxic flames. The one who had been slain in singular combat rose as a being of a flame and earth, burning the ground with every footstep. The two who had fallen to each other glowed blue and covered their faces. They moved as fast as lions and went into the pit to retrieve their fallen companion. He rose from the pit, now stronger than ever, boasting massive steel armor, with a sword far too big to be wielded by ordinary humans and was covered in frost as well. It seemed as though he still had emotion as upon seeing Misaq, he flexed his armor at him. It seemed he had Travelled straight from Hell to get here. Misaq knew he was horribly outmatched. He wasn't sure any human could kill these things.
Apparently Mutilid thought differently. He charged in, his feet a flurry of motion, raising the war hammer. Misaq saw the move a feint: Mutilid would drop the war hammer, causing his opponent to look down as a distraction at which point he would get his neck split. Things went wrong almost immediately. Mutilid charged at the big iceman, presumably not having seen him rise from the earth, must have confused him for the one he killed. The warrior was passive, almost curious when Mutilid approached him. The feint worked but the blade did not penetrate the Travelers skin. He raised his head, then grabbed Mutilid in a cold embrace. Mutilid screamed in pain. Before the Traveler could finish flexing, Misaq took aim with the Hidden Gun and fired. This time, it was a solid head on the head and staggered the brute. Impressed, the Traveler dropped the man and slowly marched towards Misaq in an unbreakable stride. Misaq quickly reloaded another shot. The Traveler took out his massive blade and slowly swung down upon Misaq. Misaq side stepped, having at least that much from Jubair. The earth shook from the smack the Traveler gave it, making Misaq lose his balance and fall down. Good thing too since the Traveler swung his blade sideways next. He attempted to swing it down onto Misaq when Misaq fired another shot onto the Traveler's face, stunning him for an instant. Distressed, Misaq signalled to Mutilid to follow him and together, they ran towards the door. Misaq had picked up his blade and decided that he would go down swinging when the door burst open with a fist.
The fist led to the whole beast of a figure to break open the door. The beast yelled a mighty roar, following it up by grabbing Mutilid and attempting to bite him. Acting on instinct, Misaq shoved his blade into the beast's mouth. As it chomped down, the solid steel broke off and damaged it from within. The fragments cut open the tongue and skin, releasing an ooze of a dark liquid. Roaring in torment, the beast dropped Mutilid and attempted to smash Misaq. It reached out with one hand to remove Misaq's upper half from the rest of his body. Misaq managed to side step back, not at all screaming like a little bitch and pissing his kameez. The beast attempted to bite Misaq who in response fell down. In the moment, he used his broken sword to stand up and accidentally stabbed the creature in the thigh. The beast side swiped Misaq, sending him backward into one of the walls. It was a slap with no real force behind it, it's attention on its weakened body. It still hurt quite a bit, giving Misaq bruises and causing his sight to flicker.
NO! NOT YET! I STILL HAVE SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR! LIKE...LIKE...
Like not being food. thought Misaq
Misaq raised himself off the ground. The beast was in pain, going around the arena, slapping any who dared cross its path. The undead were not spared from its fury who were knocked aside. It began punching a wall numerous times, perhaps as a way to soothe the pain. The dead drew their attention to Mutilid who seemed to be unable to stand back up.
Shit, what the hell am I supposed to do here? Our weapons can only harm that thing and the only thing that could harm them was... that thing.
Misaq had an idea. He was pretty sure it was as bad as most ideas of his went. He reloaded his pistol and took aim at the giant's back. He fired, hoping to get it's attention. It did it a bit more than that. It went straight into it, knocking it further into the wall. The beast, now properly enraged, jumped at Misaq. It appeared to not be of sound mind- it only managed half way and flattened one of the dead, one of the very fast blue ones, crushing it in a haze of blue smoke. The others, pumped full of rage for their once again fallen comrade, proceeded to group attack the grey creature. Misaq quickly went over to Mutilid, who realized he had twisted his leg. Misaq attempted to use the medicinal flowers in his bag, then stopped when he realized that he couldn't use the flowers raw. He didn't know how to make medicine, he didn't even know if medicine would help with a twisted leg.
The dead gave the beast one hell of a battle. Misaq watched bursts of flame crash into the behemoth, punching it back and forth. The blue covered one moved faster than a lion, going around the colossus and smacking him from his sides with kicks. The one of red hot flame ignited his sword and cut into his legs. The traveler swung his massive sword into the beast shoulder, almost cleaving it off. The ice powered one froze his front. The green one unleashed gases that disoriented the beast. Together, the group managed to topple him onto the wall he had been punching, cracking it. Their group formation was very good. Unfortunately, blades should not remain in flesh because they can often be stuck there. The traveler struggled to pull his blade back out at which point, the ogre bit into him, tearing off his armor in a single blow. As the blue covered attempted another kick, the giant jumped straight up and crushed him brutally upon landing back down. The giant removed the sword and plunged in through the ice user's shield, destroying his arm.
Misaq ran to the monster, took aim and fire, unloading a shot into his legs. The giant fell sideways, but quickly recovered. Misaq took aim and fired at his head.
Mistake. He missed. The giant came forward in a flurry of blows from left to right. Misaq stepped back, allowing the Traveler to take the full brunt of the damage, which tore most of his armor off. The Traveler summoned a globe, the same one that the iceman had. The giant knocked the globe out of the Traveler's hand. The Traveler then kneeled, as though in pain. The giant then bit his head clean off, which released an ice burst inside his mouth. This backfired, as it froze the wounds in place. Now able to focus, the giant grabbed the fire man and the toxic man, smashing them together. The fireman survived but the toxic one blew up in a burst of green, causing the giant to have a guttural sort of laugh.
A laughing gas?
The scenery looked like something out of a painting. Vibrant colors of red, blue and green dotted the ice arena. The bloodied remains of the dead disturbed Misaq, their open rib cages and torn flesh, mangled with bits of rock and steel, making him vomit in fear. Yet, the man on fire stood alone, his mettle against muscle.
The fire man began to speak. He spoke bits of Arabic "Dea duo me draugr you ogre, this fight we shall remember!" The fire of the dead raised his blade once more, covering it in a black substance. He then charged the monster, no, ogre with a tremendous use of speed and slashed across the giant's chest, tumbling him onto the ground and causing a shockwave where the air moved everyone and bits of rock fell here and there. Alas, it had not been enough. The ogres smashed both of their arms together, breaking the hard armor of the Man on Fire. Before it could land the final blow, the Man on Fire threw his blade at Misaq, cheerfully while doing so, perhaps as a way to take one more kill before his imminent demise. In an explosive finish he went, unleashing a tide of flame that defrosted the ogre's wounds and cooked his flesh, boiling his skin off. Misaq fired one more shot at his head and missed again.
Damn it, gotta do it up close and personal.
Misaq ran at the giant, picking up his broken blade and a rock. In the dust cloud formed from the aforementioned shockwave, Misaq managed to catch the ogre off guard and smashed a rock into its face. Now sluggish, Misaq attempted to kill it once and for all by slashing its throat open, forgetting that his blade was broken.
"Shit."
The ogre attempted to bite Misaq but Misaq managed to side step, picked up some snow and threw it into the ogre's face. The ogre attempted to move around, at which point Misaq got behind him, jumped at him and stabbed him in the back of his back. This did not kill him. The ogre ran around the arena, trying to get the pest off of him. Misaq kept trying to stab him, aware a single hit would break him. He noticed that the giant was moving a certain way so he drove the broken blade in as deep as he could, giving more agony to the ogre. Misaq's grip on the blade slipped and he fell. The ogre crashed into the wall which shuddered. The ogre felt to the earth, beaten but not broken, ready to strike in a moment or two. Misaq could smell the blood of his foe, it smelled like sea salt and a bizarre stench that reminded of him rotten eggs.
All hope was gone, there was no way Misaq was beating that thing on even terms. Until he saw the Man on Fire's blade. Perhaps there was still power in it. Misaq grabbed the blade and in a bout of bravery even he did not expect from himself, threw it into the ogre. In hindsight, Misaq realized that throwing your only means of defense was a bad idea. Yet, the blade hit true, cutting into the ogre's eyes. The ogre wailed around but it was clear that this was no mortal blow, it would return to the fray just as strong as before. It punched the earth so hard that a bunch of rocks came sprawling out. One of them came towards Misaq, clipping him and destroying the Hidden gun which thankfully prevented him from getting any damage. The ogre rose in hatred and pain. Misaq, in one last attempt, body slammed the ogre, which hurt Misaq more than it hurt the ogre. The ogres raised its arms for one final attack.
"God damn you, not like this," Misaq raged " NOT LIKE THIS!". A puff of wind gathered around him. Fueled by his hatred for this thing, it became a whirl wind around him. He then forcefully pushed the wind into the ogre. The ogre went flying backwards, into the stone wall. The air used to push had picked up bits of stone and ice to input into him in the process, spiking him with tiny spears. While contemplating what just happened, the cliff began to move. Feeling an earthquake, he turned and ran for his life.
Misaq barely managed to escape as the cliff cracked. The ogre attempted one more spot of gore. Misaq saw his reach up and pulled out his two wheellocks. He locked on and fired.
BOOM!
Misaq leaped for joy. Until he realized something. One, it was taking a while for the cliff to fully collapse. Two, the Ogre was about to stand up again. And three, his hand were on fire.
Misaq stared at his hands. Then the pain registered
"Aaaah, whaaah, what the hellll?"
Surrounded by snow, he did the sane logical thing and put one hand in his mouth, burning his tongue and understanding that snow would have been better. He put both of hands on snow, extinguishing the flames. He spared a gaze ahead. The wheel lock guns had exploded.
The Ogre rose to full height. The sun rose brilliantly behind him and an eagle appeared, perhaps to congratulate him.
So this is it? Well, I guess I can die with some dignity
Then the bird did something incredible. It had not risen behind the ogre. It had risen in front of him. In a flash of wind, it plunged it's claws into the ogre's eyes, crunching them in an awful scream.
A thought appeared in Misaq's mind, one that was not his own
RUN, YOU IDIOT
Looking at his soon to be fallen foe, he quickly urged back towards Mutilid. The Ogre lunged towards him, only to slip on the fallen pistols and accidentally body slam the cliff side. Causing it to fully crack. Howling in rage, The Ogre jumped...all of 5 feet and fell along with the cliff into abyss below
Screaming, the ogre and the cliff collapsed into the clouds beneath the mountain. Misaq took a moment to collect himself and looked around for the eagle. It too, had vanished. He ran towards Mutilid, desperate to escape any more cracks. He used the Force once more and pushed himself off the cracked ground towards his friend. He watched as the cliff vanished from the side.
Along with his pistols. Well, I’m sure Jubair won’t mind.
Misaq felt woozy. Is this the same day I slept with Jubair, he though, the same day I ate roast lamb for once? Has it even been half a day?
M
Misaq came over to his...ally? Companion? Friend? Fellow human, yes, that was it. He picked up the medicinal flowers and stuffed them into his mouth, hoping for one more miracle. Mutilid sat up in a coughing fit, still in pain but breathing. Not quite a miracle, but Misaq would take it. Mutilid began to speak.
"Boil it in water, ya dumb fuck."
"I wasn't trying to, I was just going to wake you up."
"I was awake, just having closed my eyes for the final blow. From your screams and the lack of a cliff side, I can assume that we won."
"Yes. Also I knew you were awake, this was a mockery."
"I get the feeling that you argue with everyone. Friend, foe, stranger."
"Yeah, yeah, let's finish this journey, shall we?"
"One second."
Mutilid brought out his muscular arms and stretched over his leg. Bored, Misaq went over to the cliff and saw the Man on Fire's sword next to his feet. Amused, he picked up the sword and felt a tingle. He then threw it as far as he could. Such a thing could only be cursed. He heard a crunch and turned to see Mutilid twist his bones in place. Had Misaq not been hungry, he would have been soon enough so that he could gag and vomit at the sight before him. Mutilid was bemused at Misaq's behavior.
"Really? You just took on a giant and won."
"Fuck off, that's nasty."
"You need to learn this safely. The world is in a state of a war and mending bones is a pretty useful skill to have."
"As is fishing, I've been told. But you can't learn everything."
"Make an effort, bitch. You won't get far without it. Although, I suspect for you, you'll go quite far with it indeed."
"What makes you say that?"
"In you I see a man of conviction. You'll drop things easily enough but you'll be determined to finish others."
Misaq looked away. The last man who had said that to him had been his rapist and superior in the criminal underworld. How odd, that Misaq had just killed a being beyond imagination and was still scared of an aging human? Misaq helped Mutilid stand up. Together, the two of them went inside the ogre's home. Along the way, Misaq came across a sword nearly identical to the one used by the Man on Fire. Believing this one to be safe, he picked it up and sheathed it. The Estoc did not belong in the same sheath as a long sword but for the moment, he had nowhere else to put it. Besides, the reason it didn't belong was because it was more useful for stabbing than slashing. It fit in just fine. The temple looked to be pieces, the ogres had knocked the pillars down in his rampage. Finally, the prize was visible, a brightly colored pyramid. Misaq began to speak
"Now, answers."
"Well, fine. At this point, you're stronger than I am. A child could kill me. This pyramid was an item created by the Izunami."
"Let me guess, a group of people from Asia, or Africa or Europe or that strange land Christopher Columbus talked about?"
"Who?"
Where did that come from? Thought Misaq. Who the hell is Christopher Columbus?
“Nevermind."
"None of them. The Izunami were a group of people who came before."
"Before? Before what?"
"Well, I guess everything. They are a sentient race that predate humanity."
"Like Jinns?"
"Maybe. They might have been there."
"So what you're saying is that the pyramid is an artifact of a jinn.” Ok that sounds familiar. Not dealing with that again. It’s all yours Mutilid.
“Alright, they're all yours. I hope you will use it well, maybe end world hunger” Ok, I'm not messing with another magical artifact
"Ok, that’s a bit too much hope. Ideals will always be your undoing. But we are getting off topic. The Pyramid was a device created by the Izunami capable of finding out possible futures. The Pyramid was made up of many triangular segments and also possessed the power to observe the past memories of a person when they touched it. My club, or organization if you think of it that way, is dedicated to finding more of these artifacts so we can enhance the rate of human evolution."
"How many of these do you have?"
"I do not know. The Izunami, supposedly were only meant to build one of these, which begs the question where 2 more came from."
"So you've got one already."
"Yes, but it's not very effective. People change per day and it's very broad. Still, we have become almost reliant upon it. We trade information, sometimes good, sometimes bad. I won't lie, ours is the most sought profession in the world. I believe we can use 2 pyramids to ward off attention. Use one to calculate the best possible outcomes and the other the worst."
"You're lying to me. There's no way you came here for the worst."
"My job would require me to kill you for that info. But I'm not certain I want to. You've earned the truth. Yes, the device we have was used to find out the worst possible outcomes and make them a reality. Don't make a face, the worst is relative. Worst for an invader is the best for a defender. This, we hope, will tell us the best."
"May I see it?"
"I doubt you'll see anything that might make sense to you. But be my guest."
Misaq went over to the glowing pyramid. He touched it. He observed it hard, felt it warm in his fingers. Nothing happened. Disappointed, Misaq turned his back to the pyramid, unaware that a beam of light was starting to enter into his back.
Flicker
The room was a lot clearer this time. It was a bedroom with lush cushions and a wooden floor. In the middle was some kind of chair upon which a human sat. A bit of glass was spread over his eyes. Misaq looked at the screen. It couldn't be but it was. It was Jubair. He was in the process of seducing another woman of high stature, possibly for a job. He could see his heart was not in it. There may not have been love between the two of them either but at least there was friendship from which love could be born. Here, it was just a job. As Jubair kissed the woman, the woman took out a knife from her clothes and attempted to stab him. Jubair took it out of her hands in an instant and hit her on her back with a dart of some kind, making her fall asleep instantly.
Flicker
The screen changed to show a woman with a knife. She was of dark skin. A gorgeous young body with strips of cloth as clothing. She slipped into a guard's bedroom while he was drunk and slit his neck. She took his Riyal and left.
Flicker
Misaq saw a man with silver hair fight alongside phantoms on a battlefield. A man with a crown designing weapons. A living suit of armor and a bizarre looking duck with a mammalian body.
Flicker
Misaq saw himself. He didn't look too bad, a bit bruised and weak but not altogether ugly, as he had previously been led to believe. He saw himself reveal what he had seen and his plans to destroy the artifact. He saw Mutilid challenge him. The two circled around each other.
Flicker
He was back. Mutilid questioned him "Well, what did you see?"
What could I say? thought Misaq. I could confront him the same way future me did. Maybe I could keep the artifact with me, instead of destroying it. Or I could just let him go. It's his fault I'm here in the first place.
"Are you ok?"
"I was... hoping to see something. Anything. I just kind of zoned for a second."
"I see. Well, I'll see you later. I'm taking that artifact and leaving this god forsaken land."
"This is where God sent his Last Prophet!"
"We're not in Arabia right now. The door was a portal of sorts that instantly transported us to a known location in the north. We could not get to this location normally so we had to improvise quite a bit."
"At any rate, you owe me 15 percent."
"15 percent of what? I can't exactly give you 15 percent of the pyramid and my money's down below."
"The powder you make, how do you do that?"
"That's a secret I don't intend to reveal."
"Like the pyramind?"
"Pyramid. Actually, no pyramind does sound better. Ugh, fine. It's made out of gunpowder mixed in with 2 other materials. One is a type of acid found in caves, the other is a metal that burns in air."
"Burns in air?"
"We don't actually have a name for it yet but it does burn in air after long periods of time."
"See, that wasn't so hard."
"He he he, talking, no. Getting here, yes. You and I succeeded where my friend failed."
"How'd he fail?"
"He took an army of 100 soldiers up here. They all wore that Travellers armor. He was the only survivor."
"Cause of the ogre."
"Maybe. He didn't exactly say. Let us go."
Mutilid placed the artifact into his bag. The duo then made their way down the mountain, back the path they came. Upon arriving in the desert, they saw that they were not alone. Belial had arrived with 3 camels in tow. It was obvious he waited only for Mutilid, the third camel was for luggage, possibly for the pyramind. Misaq sat down and watched Mutilid leave. Before leaving, Mutilid offered a farewell.
Misaq said first "Allah Hafiz, Mutilid"
To which Mutilid responded with "Farewell and good luck on the path."
Mutilid walked towards Belial when he stopped. He then walked back to Misaq and whispered into him "Misaq, my real name is Jack Du Ripper. Remember it and come find me in Venice of Italy should you ever get the chance. You may even say for now that you work for Jack Du Ripper of Manan. I have a feeling you'll do well there."
With that, Ipos left alongside Belial, leaving Misaq to consider his words. After 5 minutes, Misaq made his way home to Jubair. Aloud he said
"Great, I learned how to make bombs. Maybe that might please Jubair."
xxx
"YOU LOST IT?!" Shouted Jubair.
"No, it broke, then it got lost," replied Misaq.
"Of course it did, tell me, how many bandits were there?"
"7."
"Wow, a perfect number. How many did you kill?"
"Technically speaking, none. They came back from the dead."
"The way you speak, I'd almost believe you. I hope you had fun with it because I am just a regular Hassassin. Only Master Hassassins have access to the gun design. I stole them for my father who only wanted a test of thievery."
"Consider it my birthday gift."
"Your birthday is two days away. You want me to give you nothing?"
"I could just use some rest. And... I want to train. Learn sword fighting, learn medicine, pick up as much as I can."
"Finally. It only took breaking a weapon for it?"
"Is that what you're pissed about? The fact that it broke, rather than the weapon itself."
"Yes, you won't believe how irritating for me that it broke, for any weapon really, but this one kind of stings, even a child could have used."
"And missed."
"Maybe. So what do you want to do on your birthday?"
"Probably just be comfortable for the day."
"Oh," he said seductively, "I can arrange that."
The two slid into each other's arms and lay on the bed, unaware of the approaching foes.