The stars cast their silvery judgement down upon him, but the stranger raised his hood. Guilt never failed to visit him during these nightly meetings, years too late. It didn’t stop him the first time, there was no chance he would turn away now. A nuisance he couldn’t shake.
The late-night chill nipped at his rippling silk cloak. Winter was on the way this far south. Humidity stifled the day time still, but nights were a respite now. He snatched at his cloak when another gust passed through him. His hood clung to the thinning stubble atop his head, while a mask shielded his jaw and nose from the bite.
He glanced back at the distant glow sparkling through the night. Bil’Faridh was a jewel, worthy of being the capital that it was. A chaotic city with its distinct districts representing each Feline clan melded together. Clay, stone, rock, tile, wood and even paper. An eyesore to many, but he loved it anyway. It was for the capital that brought him here to the usual meeting spot. Far beyond the Beast’s Tear ringing the city’s walls. The stranger shivered when another cool gust weaved its way through his cloak, unsettling his heart.
He grimaced after daring a look up at the perfect silver stars amongst the darkness. No respite.
Another gust nudged the sack beside him, filling his chest with panic. His hands rushed down towards it, fearing an unseen thief. The wind teased again, and the riches shifted, he grumbled at himself. There was no calming his heart however, so he untied the string and ogled the diamonds, rubies, opals, amethysts and topazes glittering up at him. A welcome change for his back, though he didn’t make these journeys that often. Most importantly the change seemed to please her, which never hurt. Her anger was not something he wished to experience.
The stranger’s eyes darted towards the nearby pile of leaves, shifted by the frequent wind. He held his breath as the dry leaves swirled for longer than he would have like. Only exhaling when the secret the pile hid remained a secret.
They’re late.
He grumbled at the thought, lowering his mask. His eyes wandered around the darkness, which still overpowered despite the stars and distant lights of the capital behind. The usual yearning for the enhanced senses of Tamers filled him, it certainly would have made him feel secure during these rare meetings. Then again, had he been a Tamer, none of this would have started.
If only the Great Beast favoured me.
The stranger cleared his throat, that was not a wise train of thought. It led into a deep pit of despair, one he feared to be inescapable. There was no need to attract the Beast’s ire.
A crack of dark magenta lightning summoned his attention ahead. From a low cloud of immeasurable darkness. As swift as a blink, and with all the intimidation of a thunderstorm. It was always dark magenta with her magic, always.
Three figures emerged from the tear in reality. Two were colossal, shadowy pillars on either side of the rippling blackness. The third stumbled out and fell to his knees, his moaning muffled to his ears. Not draped in darkness like the giants, but a glint of steel on his chest caught the stranger’s eyes.
He hefted the sack of jewels with a grunt and stomped towards them. A curse burst from the lips of the small one rising to his feet, dusting himself off before straining his eyes at his approach.
“Skinny one this time, eh?” He chuckled at the stranger. “Give it here, before you snap your twigs for arms.”
Shorter than the stranger he was, but he was happy to relinquish his load.
“Pharaohs aren’t feeding you lot anymore? Bet they’re using the war to be stingy, been known to do that those lot.”
A chatty Lion, with sun scorched yet somehow still pale umber skin. Bald, with a uniquely battered face. The stranger lifted his mask. Anonymity was paramount, especially with this sort of company.
“I’m called Horus. You have a name, skinny?”
He bit back a scoff, then his eyes lowered down towards the patch of cloth over Horus’ scaled breastplate. Instead of the proud carving of a Sinha there was a gash. The Feline was carved out during his betrayal no doubt, a true desertion of the Lion Clan.
“Quiet one, hmm?”
The stranger clenched his jaw.
“Fuck me, how is this better than gold? Bastard is heavier than you are I’d think.”
They stood before the rippling darkness. Flashes of magenta lightning continued within it. Horus dumped the sack down with a grown, then stretched his back and flexed his limbs. The stranger glanced at one of the towering brutes, swathed in blackness without beginning. From head to toe, without a hint of hair, flesh or even humanity. In the growing silence, the shadow met his gaze. Despair oozed within the stranger’s chest.
The thing’s hazel eyes crackled with dark magenta, feeding him hatred. Judgement and disappointment hammered at him, souring the stranger’s despair into guilt. He dug his boots into the earth and refused to back down. Yet he sank, the cold soil seeped into his boots and sliced his bones with jagged ice.
“Hey! Come on then, we mustn’t keep her waiting.” Horus nudged him out of it.
The dark tear quivered, another spark of sharp magenta flashed within it, beckoning Horus through it. He obeyed and vanished with the sack of gems over his shoulder, making the cloud hum. The stranger stepped closer until the strange power pulled yanked at him and dragged him through.
It tore him apart.
His bones slipped out of their joints, clicking with immense pain. The stranger’s flesh unravelled; his bones chipped. His veins popped free and tore open, his blood blotted. Organs burst, shattering his ribs and spine. The silk he wore became unwoven; the seams withered. He became nothing, until he was remade again and the unimaginable pain became a memory.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
The stranger huffed on his knees, a world away from the dark cloud. His knees suffered upon the crumbling stone; loose dust coated his palms. He wheezed for air, begging for any amount to enter his empty lungs. There was an unnatural gloom around, and a crumbling ceiling above, but his mind focused on recovery first. No star could judge him here.
He struggled to his feet with trembling limbs and blinked the desecrated ruin surrounding him into view. A withered remnant from the Age of Heresy he guessed. It matched the many descriptions of archivists and scribes he once pondered over. The columns were beyond their duty of keeping the fractured ceiling up. Most lay shattered on the ground, beside blazing braziers. Dark magenta fire burned within them, rising and falling to match the breathing of their maker.
Horus kissed the cracking clay stone before the dais ahead. A silk curtain shrouded the wooden throne, hiding the hunched silhouette seated behind it. The braziers on either side of it roared with dark magenta flames, a hint towards the power behind the curtain. Fiery rage compared to the calm braziers lighting the rest of the ruin. He rushed to join Horus, but remained on his feet.
“Welcome,” her voice drummed his chest. The foundations trembled against the calm greeting. Dust trickled down from above. “You may leave Horus.”
Horus crawled out of the ruin through the darkness behind, leaving the sack of jewels. More dark magenta sparked in silence after he vanished through the cloud. The strange caught more shadows between the braziers on either side of him. All black, all imposing, a new wave of judgment to replace the stars from before.
“I didn’t expect another personal meeting so soon dear…”
“Please witch,” he panicked, thinking she would speak his name.
The braziers beside the throne roared, warming his face with renewed rage. Once they simmered, he caught a strange silver glow emanating from the witch’s silhouette.
“Now, now, now, dear Lion, do you take me for a careless fool? I would never break my promise.”
Her voice softened again, but the fiery magenta anger remained etched in his mind. Both gruff and gentle, coarse and serene, dancing between the contradictions without pattern.
“To lose your patronage, dare I say it would devastate me.”
The stranger tasted bitterness on his tongue.
“Why have you come this time?”
“The… war.”
Her laugh was hollow, emerging from a gaping pit from the depths. Soul absorbing and foundation rumbling. A column crashed down behind him, he flinched.
“Such greed, almost admirable. Shall I shatter the Mahn’Parvat and open Ko’Eri to the rest of the continent? Open the rest of Mahn’Jaanvar to the Felines, or do your ambitions stretch beyond this continent?”
It was mockery, yet it buckled his knees, he knew better than to rise to it.
“Perhaps I should ask the Beast to join you?”
“Please,” the stranger squeaked.
“Ask it.”
“I… what is the price?”
The stranger’s bones wished to flee from his frozen flesh as silence followed his question.
“Consider it a gift. Ask.”
“I ask for an end to the war.”
Her pondering vibrated the foundations, and the stranger acquired an extra layer of dust from the ceiling. She glowed with silver again, an aura surrounding her decrepit figure behind the silk curtain. It began from an amulet around her chest, jagged like a star.
“My dear Lion, your payments are soon ending, I shall miss these words we share.”
Three more, he told himself, then worried about this new wish.
“I should add more, turn the favour into a final payment. You possess a handsomeness I enjoy admiring.”
The stranger shuddered, that was far from what he expected. He recalled their first meeting, and she was a kindly old woman all those years ago. Her silver amulet glowed after his first request, and regret followed soon after. She was old, one powerful gust away from the grave, surely, she hadn’t any true power? Yet the years passed, time withered his hair, and she remained unchanged, just like a Tamer. He trembled.
Tamers wouldn’t mock the Great Beast like she did.
“I’m not going to lay with you fool, I’m not one for forcing anyway, for why would you choose to when a Tamer already warms your bed? Tell me, did she weep when she quickened?”
His heart melted; a pitiful whimper eked from his stammering lips. The witch’s ire surged again; his face burned against the roaring braziers.
“Do you ever doubt it? Do you ever wonder what would have happened if you simply waited? Did I truly do anything for you?”
She laughed after her resumed mockery, much harsher, stabbing through his chest with every echo. This time, his own fire burned within him.
“Really, anger? Begone Lion, we are done for now.”
The stranger remained rooted, fists clenched, and eyes watering with frustration. He gritted his teeth and inhaled what remained of his courage, a last-ditch attempt to restore pride.
“Leave!”
She stole all the air from his lungs, dropping him to his knees. One of the monstrous shadows gripped his shoulder with terrible strength. His flesh bruised, his bones cracked, and soon his entire body tore itself apart once again. This time the stranger let go, and begged for it to endure.