>
> Lussiel Inis-Mir paused next to the last two life-sized female effigies before the exit of the aptly named Garden of Statues. Her first official visit to the famed place almost over. She placed a graceful toned hand on the taller of the two -just a hair shorter than her- long fingers adorned with intricate gold rings and thin silver chains dangling from her intricate gold and rubies-ornamented bracers. The gems on them matching the myriad shades of red and amber in her expressive eyes.
>
> She traced tenderly with a finger the strikingly life-like familiar face, many a times depicted in the palace, on walls and paintings. Both statues made of rare white-gold standing next to each other ‘guarding’ the huge arching gates.
>
> The third figure left unfinished across from them with its podium only built.
>
> With a soft gasp, she withdrew her hand from the first statue.
>
> Lussiel stared at its shorter strange companion next, the grin on it so brazen it brought one as well on her usually unappeasable painted full lips. The young woman touched the beautifully sculpted bow and then the rectangular quiver hanging from the petite Ranger’s back. She remembered hers left on her horse. Same bow almost and certainly the same quiver. She read the full name written on the heavy marble pedestal and frowned.
>
> “That’s her then,” Lussiel noticed a little annoyed. “She did have my name.”
>
> Maeriel never standing too far apart turned to stare at her sternly, dark-green Imperial Hunter’s hard-leather armour rustling in discomfort. The silvery-gold and green Zilan’s eyes haunted at the memories. “It would rile her up to no end, hearing you say that your highness,” the ranger admonished her, like only those of the first followers dared. “And it would have saddened your father deeply. Only those the Monarch loved dearly have entered his Garden.”
>
>
>
> Events recorded on the first month of Summer 208 NC
>
> by
>
> Phinariel, the Boorish Poet,
>
> Royal Scribe,
>
> Member of the Queen’s Council
>
> In the final manuscript and tome of her Magnus Opus titled
>
> Apotheosis
>
> (The King’s Heritors)
>
> Chapter II
>
> Netela
>
> (The Daughter)
>
> -Riel Lussiel Inis*-Mir, O’ Nielek Aniculo-
>
> (Celebrated in the Austere Archaic Cofol of the Four Old Sisters** as,
>
> ‘Royal Princess,
>
> Precious Humming* (or Whispering) Opal,
>
> of Onyx Wyvern’
>
> Commonly known as,
>
> Gilded Monarch of Tenebrous Castle, in both Jelin & Eplas
>
> ‘Horrid Crimson Lucy’ in war-torn Kaltha,
>
> the ‘Winged Fiend of New Goras’ in defiant ravaged Regia,
>
> and spawn of ‘Saereg O’ Eodrass’ by the baleful Aken Elders.
>
> The latter just another name,
>
> for Dragon God’s Blood in the Old Tongue.)
>
> -
>
> Entered into the Royal Library,
>
> In 219 NC,
>
> Circa 3425 IC –consolidated- (3rd Era)
>
>
>
>
>
> *The older inscribed Royal Imperial (Court Tongue) used here,
>
> when converted in Jelin Common, which was the King’s first tongue
>
> give Whisper(-ing) as the first meaning, Hum (sing) as second.
>
>
>
> **Four Old Sisters (of the ‘Peninsula’.)
>
> The common moniker for the ancient grant Imperial City ports of Greenwhale.
>
> (Lai Zel-Ka, Ani Ta-Ne, Fu De-Gar and Que Ki-La)
----------------------------------------
Glen
Mister Garth
Hardir O’ Fardor
Glimpses of future past
Part I
-If gold could rule this Realm alone-
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
“Whisper, get that plaguin’ blade off my neck! Are you kiddin’ me?” Glen roared irate managing to nick himself, blood trickling down his collar. “FUCK!”
“Why do ye sound…?” Jinx wondered uneasy and then popped her pink head from the side to look at his profile. Granted these idiots had their neighborhood dark per his orders, but still… “Glen? Oiii, haha! Glen!” She blasted in his ear and hugged his bleeding neck, almost toppling them both from the saddle, while her knife almost slashed his nose off. “You fool, I almost killed ye!” Yer still trying it! “Yer so lucky, aww look at dis mug. There’s a smell on ye, very weird. Mmm.”
A sweating Glen, heart beating wild from the scare, tried furious to untangle himself and get his hands on the knife to take it off her, afore losing something valuable. Jinx though, just wouldn’t let him go. She kept brushing her cheek on his ear, either excited, or just cleaning herself up.
Half of what she murmured whilst rubbing on him ineligible.
“Abrakas toes! I had all but given up hope truly, but drunk a lot and faked it for Sen’s sake,” she purred between sniffles, Flix watching them sneering like a hag in heat from his horse.
“Whisper. Let go of the neck,” Glen tried again using a stern tone, when Outlaw stopped before the old Watch Tower –to be turned into a house of sorts- and neighed tiredly. “And lose the plaguin’ knife! I’m still in danger for fuck’s sake! From you!”
“Eh, don’t be a sour cunt. Ye just don’t want to admit you missed me,” Jinx replied and let him go. Glen immediately jumped down and checked on his neck with his fingers. Despite the blood the cut was superficial, but still… was that knife ever cleaned?
“Why in Luthos arse did ye jump on me?” He blasted her regaining his footing. Jinx’s much longer hair was kept off her oval face, tied in a ponytail in a fresh look.
It makes her face look bigger somehow, Glen thought, and kind of empty. Uh, maybe it’s the lack of a nose?
A subject one should never bring up with the young Gish.
“I was following Garth!” Jinx snapped back. “And that skank Stiles!”
She was right on both counts.
“Listen,” Glen said raising a palm –fingers laced pointing up- to stop her. “There’s are some sensitive deals goin’ on—”
He never got the chance to finish.
“No way! What? I just noticed it!” Jinx gasped and jumped down. She walked up to him and slapped his hand away. “Yer way bigger! What the actual fuck?”
Glen sighed and pressed the nasal bone on his nose with thumb and mid-finger to alleviate a lurking headache. “I may have gotten some extra kilos on lately,” he admitted a moment later sucking his stomach in –not that it showed.
When you find free food, ye stuff yerself to the brim.
“In fat?” Jinx probed poking with a finger at his belly over the armor.
“Muscle,” Glen grunted in annoyance. “Hear me out Whisper, I need to tell you some stuff—”
“Why did ye treat Leo so poorly?” Jinx cut him off again, making no sense at all. Glen reached down in her leather vest and grabbed the red shirt she had underneath. Pulled her upright using it, the flimsy material surprisingly holding.
“Is that silk?” He asked her perturbed. “Since when… ah, never mind that. Who the fuck is Leo?”
“Tis a fine indoors tunic,” she explained all proud, then frowned. “What do you mean? You have her tied up!” Jinx put both her hands before her mouth at that, eyes opened wide in shock for some mysterious reason.
Huh?
Who’s she?
Ah, anyways… I’m pretty sure I don’t have...
Then again… Whisper can barely string two words together half the time.
Poor thing is basically illiterate.
“You don’t mean the pirate scum?” Glen queried finishing his biased retrospection and narrowed his eyes. “Yer on a first name basis wit him?” He paused to suck air in and then stooping abruptly, Glen unleashed in her face. Lots of spaying spittle connecting with the Gish. “WHAT HAPPENED TO SEN?”
Jinx didn’t even blink. She raised a hand to wipe her face, licked her palm to clean it up alike a cat and then sighed. Her breasts swelling underneath the vest. It seemed the Gish had grown aplenty as well, Glen noticed, his interest purely academic.
“Sen is on the ship still. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her. She’s fine.”
“The ship that ruffian stole!” Glen growled, righteous fury for the dastardly deed overwhelming him. He glanced towards the Watch Tower, Stiles appearing at the doorstep briefly to spy on their talk and missed Jinx’s response. “What was that?”
“Sen gave him the ship,” Jinx repeated. “Twas a trade.”
What in the slovenly fuck?
“A trade?” Glen grunted choking up in his own spit. He wasn’t sure how to handle this. “Why in Luthos loud fart would she ever do that? My ship! Twas the only ship I ever had! What is this shite? Have you women lost yer bloody minds?” He stopped breathing heavy and drenched in sweat, several workers sleeping in the tower waking up to see what all the yelling was about. Stiles appeared in the doorstep again, glanced sneakily at them and hid inside again.
“Stiles! Ye rotten cretin! Get yer arse out here now!” Glen barked his throat hurting. Jinx put a hand on his chest to stop him. “Remove that,” Glen rustled, not in the mood for petting.
“We were attacked by pirates, afore Leo found us,” Jinx said calmly. “Helped us reach Eikenport.”
“Leo, the pirate?” Glen asked with a glare. “That lying scum got my ship as reward? It was a bloody con job Jinx! Gods! Did ye seriously fall for that?”
“Most of the crew was killed. Zola… as well.”
Glen blinked too stunned to respond. He gulped down, feeling weak in the knees at the news. No. “Zola… was killed. She’s dead?”
Jinx scrunched her face, lots of pain bubbling to the surface. She looked older now that Glen was looking at her better in the decent light. The darkness had retreated somewhat strangely. Wait… He blinked again, then frowned and turned to see Flix holding a lightstone in his open palm illuminating their spot.
Dammit all to hells!
Zola is gone, he thought unable to believe it. Glen wanted to blame someone and then kick him repeatedly in the face, but Stiles wouldn’t come out.
“What happened?” He asked tiredly, all his initial euphoria for the successful exchange gone. I’ll sort everything out first, he decided, then take a long moment to process this. I keep losing friends left and right. This shite needs to stop.
“I don’t want to remember it Glen,” Jinx replied with difficulty. Yep, Whisper is messed up as well. I need to stand strong for her. “Nor tell it again. Leo came after the Kraken got to them—”
“Wait…ahm, wait a god-darn minute there!” Glen stopped her again, returning to the present. “What bloody Kraken? How did ye manage to screw this up so bad Jinx? All ye had to do was bring a ship to a plaguin’ port!”
“You and yer darn luck were missing. One bad thing after another,” she retorted, then proceeded calmly. “It came during the attack, broke their ship apart and I had to stop it, afore it killed us all as well,” Jinx finished.
Sen included.
Glen blinked and stood back his brain hurting. “You… stopped a Kraken? Like… was it a kid? A small malnourished one, like a large squid? Or a very fat whale perchance?”
“Twas a Kraken. There’s only one lurking in the Scalding Sea,” Jinx insisted. “All Gish can trade wit it the first time it sees them, if they are truthful.”
“Why only Gish?” Glen argued not convinced.
“I said all Gish, not only. All followers of Abrakas was my meaning.”
Glen sucked his upper lip in, caught it with his teeth and stared at her thoughtfully. Jinx smiled all mischief seeing his mind at work. “What?” She asked him.
“What was the trade?” Glen queried, what she’d left unsaid.
“Next time it catches me, Abrakas will collect on the debt. He’s a bastard like that,” Jinx replied and it was clear what she meant. Glen scratched his head with a hand, wild hair reaching his shoulders almost and sighed.
“Damn it Whisper,” he said simply, now worried for her. “You practically live in the water.”
“There’s water beyond the sea,” the Gish replied bravely with a shrug. Glen stared at Flix, but the old assassin remained silent, his old eyes gloomy and foreboding.
Glen got no uplifting vibes from the old Gish.
Fuck.
“What’s wit this ancient tower?” Jinx asked him and put an end to his troubled but not useful thoughts.
“Sen’s cousin bought some parcels of land, ruined buildings for the most part,” he pointed at the different properties.
“Why?”
“Thinking of repairing them. Before we get into that, I want to talk with your pirate,” Glen replied. “And Whisper, call me Garth afore the others.”
“Which others?”
“Ye know, people we don’t know. Outside our tight nit group.”
“Eh, sure. Though there are probably plenty of people I know that ye don’t,” she glanced at the silent old Gish with a frown. “And versa vice.”
Flix chuckled at her mistake.
Huh?
Glen decided not to dig deeper into that right away, but check on her meaning later.
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
The workers had cleared up the second floor of the tower. The room small and crammed even though it was empty of furniture. Perhaps it is the ceiling, it’s too low.
Glen eyed the shifty-looking pirate, who in turn was staring at the small open window. Anything made of wood had withered away.
“You jump out of that, wit yer hands tied up, you’re landing on yer head.” he cautioned him. “Ever threw a melon out of a window? It turns to goo,” Glen paused thinking back on Jinx’s words.
This was a mess.
Luthos ye piece of shite.
“May I request a parley, mister Garth?” Leo queried.
“Let me handle this,” Jinx stopped him. Glen glanced at both of them, arms crossed on his chest. “He can get mad for no reason,” she added.
“Oh, I have reasons aplenty now,” Glen rustled. “And questions. Plenty of them as well. Like why did ye left Sen on the ship? Why not release her to the Cofols?”
“Leo couldn’t bring the ship closer after the first week. The rest of the crew decided to disembark,” Jinx explained.
That’s a bullshit excuse.
“Whisper,” Glen said patiently. “Let this lying scum answer.”
“Milady of exotic origins speaks the truth, great though unsung Garth,” Leo said and danced on his feet towards the former thief. Glen reached over his shoulder and unsheathed Emerson’s sword. Directed the point on the approaching pirate captain’s neck to stop him.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Ah. Hmm,” Leo murmured freezing up, then observed the tip of the blade. “As it has been revealed, the absence of proper crew would straddle a ship, if a new one isn’t there to make up for the losses.”
Glen blinked. This dude talks a lot.
Leo flashed him a toothy grin, twirled around his extended blade, sliced the cord tying up his hands on it, ducked under Glen’s arm and hugged his chest with both arms from behind. It was an impressive piece of pantomime and very disturbing. “I know who ye are mister Garth,” the pirate whispered in his ear, his breath smelling of rum and spices.
“Leo!” Jinx snapped furious.
Glen reached for his dagger, a vein throbbing on his left temple. “Unhand me,” he warned the weird creature in a low menacing growl. “Else I’ll have your ears.”
Leo chuckled and pulled away.
The former thief was far from amused though.
He turned around, barely restraining himself from running the mirthful pirate through.
“You’ll bring Sen ashore,” Glen told the cackling cocksucker and Leo sobered up immediately. Which for him it meant, he just looked less drunk.
“Now, there might be—”
Glen cut him off, he’d enough of the man’s bullshit. “It isn’t up for debate, Vale. Nothing here is. Dis is not a democracy, or some other weird shite. I want her returned,” he warned him and Glen didn’t even have to channel Emerson this time. It was all him. He was livid. “You have one day, then I’ll allow Gimoss to eat your brains. Ye might be dead by then, or not.”
The corpse needed more work on his looks and that wound was horrific to stare at.
“Wait what?” Jinx gasped in horror. “Who’s Gimoss?”
“How am I going to do that love?” Leo asked, even more sober now, but for the cringy epithet.
“He’s kidding!” Jinx intervened and stared at him very uncomfortable. “Right? Glen?”
It was clear even to the blind Glen wasn’t.
“I’ll need a boat to reach the ship,” Leo explained nervously. “Stealing one after what happened, might do me in.”
He said it, as if Glen would care.
“Find a way,” Glen retorted, not an ounce of pity in his voice. “Yer pretty low on better alternatives.”
“Tell him the truth!” Jinx snapped at the sweating pirate.
“Me lovely,” Leo protested. “He knows, just plays it difficult to get. Yer Lord is a right cutthroat.”
Glen raised the blade he’d lowered earlier but still had out and smacked the pirate’s ridiculous hat away, with the flat of its end. Leo flinched in panic, but Glen followed him calmly, the room too small for maneuvering and slashed at him again proper, opening up his vest and ruining the silk shirt underneath. That weirdo wore bandages underneath it all alike a mummy.
“I yield!” Leo screamed, the girliest cry Glen had ever heard from a guy. He paused to stare at him with a frown.
“Yer already a prisoner,” he reminded him, a good measure of pity in his voice and turned to glare at Jinx who had her knife out to come at him from the side. “Whisper, put that back please. We are going to fight for him? What’s the deal wit this piece of shite? You actually fucked that?”
Jinx smacked her lips, flipped her small knife once up, caught it deftly and sheathed it showing off. Glen almost rolled his eyes.
“It’s a she,” Jinx replied finally. “Leona wants to keep it a secret, but obviously she can’t. The fails keep piling up.”
Glen snorted. He eyed the pirate, Leona trying to put the pieces of her shirt together, the vest completely ruined. She was fortunate, as Glen wanted to cut her and not sort of undress her.
Then again…
Were they taking him for a plaguin’ ride here?
“Prove it,” he told Jinx, determined to get to the bottom of this.
“Show him yer tits,” Jinx deadpanned.
“Well… there’s no need to go that far,” Glen protested.
But it was a very weak protest everyone present agreed, so Leona just went ahead and put everything out on display. It took a long moment to unwrap the caramel-skinned goods. Ah. Good grief, Glen thought nigh impressed. That’s a lot of boob on ‘em tits.
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
“Right then,” Glen said some time later, after he cleared his sore throat a couple of times and the pirate girl had covered up some. “This... show, changes nothing Whisper. I still want Sen ashore.”
“I can only attempt it in the night. If they spot me entering the port on the return, they will just get us all,” Leona Vale argued both arms raised over her head, as Jinx was still trying to mend her shirt with a scowl on her face.
“Bah, they might go ahead and take the ship anyway, now that you mentioned it,” Glen decided. “With not much of a crew… is Soren there? Liko?”
He half expected everyone to be dead by now. This past year and change, has been a catastrophe. It had its highs sure, but boy there were some huge lows mixed in as well.
Why Zola damn it. Better to have killed the kid.
“They are, but they can’t prevent it,” Jinx replied thankfully, staring at the haphazardly thrown together piece of garment. Glen was looking at it as well. Leona will make a killing in a tavern, he thought appreciatively.
“Then I’m afraid yer girlfriend is running out of time,” he said, keeping that appreciation off his voice.
“Glen! Damn it, stop this!” Jinx snapped furious. “It’s not you.”
“Whisper, I’m dead serious. She brings Sen-Iv back, or she’s done.”
“You won’t do it.”
Glen sighed and stared at them both. Leona gave him another wink and now put in proper context, it made Glen blush. Still, had Jinx not been present, he’d have Gimoss work on her without a second thought. Deep down, he just didn’t like her. Big tits, or not.
“What was yer plan?” He asked her, to give the pirate another chance to win him over. “Fuck yer way out of the gallows?”
“I didn’t expect Van Fleet to beat me to the port,” Leona admitted. “The fact he never visited me part of the docks, a curse and a blessing. More a curse in the end, than a blessing. Getting raped is worse than the hangman’s noose. Savvy?”
“Actually no I don’t. Not for certain. I suggest ye wait to feel the rope burning at yer throat, then ye can put it in proper context. But moving on from that, yer a Vale, so technically you didn’t lie,” Glen narrowed his eyes, seeing a solution of sorts. “So there is that, aye. Hmm.”
“Hmm?” Jinx asked. “I don’t like yer hummin’.”
Glen didn’t appreciate her humming as well and she did it more than him.
“Leona I will return you to the pirates,” Glen decided trying not to get distracted.
“What?” Jinx snapped again. She stilled her legs down. “No!”
Glen continued talking over her objection.
“You’ll tell them the truth. Stiles will back you up ardently, then ye’ll apologize and promise a… whatever it is ye people say to patch things up.”
“You killed a lot of brothers,” Leona pointed out. “I’ll have a hard time convincing them.”
“Let me make it simpler for ye,” Glen said sternly. “You’ll find a way, convince them to leave the matter behind and allow you to moor inside the port, or else.”
“Without crew?”
“Do you pay them, the crew?” Glen probed. He had to pay his usually.
Eh, it wasn’t exactly set in stone.
People moved on, afore getting their cut.
Or died.
Uh.
“Eh, sometimes… if coin is available,” Leona said, implying there wasn’t any currently.
Fuck, there goes that sack of coins.
I thought I saved it, but obviously it wasn’t meant to be.
“It is. I will fund yer crew. Bring my ship ashore,” Glen decided.
“That would be my ship,” Leona countered. “Per the agreement I had wit yer lovely wife, afore plenty o’ witnesses and Abrakas himself.”
Glen eyed her unamused.
“I don’t give a rat’s arse about Abrakas woman. I don’t care about agreements I haven’t made and my wife was under the knife, when she agreed to it. She told yer friend Stiles as much. Per the Merchant’s Guild ancient rules she’s a member of and I’m plaguin’ quoting her here, any agreement made under duress is null and void.”
Leona stilled her legs and stared back at him.
“I won’t be left stranded in this port, Mister Garth. It’s the wave I’ll die on.”
If Glen knew how to steer a ship himself, he’d given Leona a heavy boulder to better sink to the bottom.
How hard could it be?
Surely not harder than writing?
“You’ll need a new captain Glen,” Jinx said looking flushed, probably her hormones acting up again. Gish were weird like that.
Hmm.
“What’s your commission?” He asked the pirate captain.
Leona raised a thin brow. She isn’t ugly after all, Glen thought. You had to wash her up thoroughly first though. She reeks worse than Whisper, with none of that wet fur musk, or whatever the fuck that is.
“What was that, friend?” He asked as he’d missed her answer.
“Only a country will employ a pirate Garth,” she repeated. “Or a state. Are you a Kingdom Garth?”
Glen stood back and stared at the badly smeared pirate’s face. An idea forming in his mind.
“What’s the number?”
“Fifty percent. We split the loot down the middle and I get letter of employment from you.”
Hah…ahahaha!
“Learn to fish, or find a dress fit for a tavern. Ye got all the tools,” Glen advised her without batting an eyelash. “I see no pirating in yer future.”
“Forty. I’ll take forty,” Leona haggled.
“Ah, that ship is sailing away woman. Its sails are getting smaller and ye just stare it sadly from the shore,” Glen countered. It was impossible to out-haggle him. If ever there was a haggling tourney he’d have finished first without even breaking sweat, with enough gold to retire at the end of it.
Leona groaned frustrated and stared at Jinx. Whisper shrugged her shoulders.
“I’m about to start fingerin’ meself,” the Gish explained in her serious voice. “When he’s all greedy and cocky, I lose it. Sorry dear.”
“Twenty is the lowest I’ll go,” Leona hissed oozing frustration. Glen smacked his lips and stared at her thoughtfully.
“Can you patch things up with the pirates?”
“Van Fleet might be impossible to reason and Dayton’s crew will want your head for sure.”
“See there now, that ‘might’ isn’t nonnegotiable, nor a finite word. What will sway him?” Glen asked her.
“Van Fleet wants what we all want in the end,” Leona replied. “A proper port to call home. Plenty of grog not tasting of piss and taverns brimming of fresh cock and cunt. Where we won’t be bothered from the Khan’s philistine whims, or demands and the High King’s gallows. Can ye give him that Mister Garth?”
----------------------------------------
----------------------------------------
Glen climbed down the narrow staircase and got out in the street, found the old Gish smoking blissfully with his back on the wall, right next to the gaping entrance.
“Pretty was an understatement,” Flix commented and Glen sighed. The assassin reached in his pockets and offered Glen his backup pipe. The cheap one. Glen took it and put it in his mouth. Used the firestone that Flix tossed him to light it up and sucked carefully this time, letting the smoke dull his senses.
“She likes the pirate girl. It’s her way of coping,” he said with a light cough. Damn this shite is strong as fuck!
“Jinx is very young,” Flix pointed. “She probably likes anything new.”
“She’s a year older than me,” Glen argued.
“In context though she’s still a baby,” Flix countered. “Gish are slower to mature.”
Yeah.
“We might have to fight the pirates again.”
“Perhaps. The Sopat scion might stop their plans dead though. They need the Khan and this port. It will be a strong argument.”
“They know about Biscuit.”
“The news will get out Garth,” Flix said and took the pipe from him. “It might be slow at first, but eventually every part of the Realm shall learn about your friend.”
“Lon thinks it’s an asset.”
“Lon-Iv will do whatever Phon-Iv tells him. Are the Sopats interests yours?” Flix asked, emptying the pipes with a thin tool.
“Sen-Iv is my wife. Her fortune is tied to the Peninsula. I can’t cast aside her whole world without offending her.”
Flix nodded and walked to the middle of the road. He stared at the barred entrance of the Mastaba, the wooden gates solid and impressive. Glen followed suit and went to stand next to him, looking up and down the dark but cleaned up road. The workers had outdone themselves. He stared towards the ruined warehouse next, where most of the slaves slept.
Work them to the bone, Gimoss had urged him.
Say you finish the tower repairs, Glen thought, pushing the corpse’s words out of his mind. You’re still too exposed. Biscuit is too loud a secret to keep hidden, but you knew that from the start. You’re running all this time my dude. Ye need a better plan.
“If gold could rule this realm alone,” Flix said picking up the thread again. “Then bankers would have been kings by now. They want to, but they need more than that.”
Glen puffed his cheeks out and then let the air escape his lips.
“I need to put my foot down,” he said. “Draw a line, but I can’t with people coming after me all the time.”
“Eikenport was an Imperial port once. Now it isn’t.”
Glen looked at the old Gish’s profile. The journey through the desert had taken a toll on his old bones. No amount of makeup could hide that.
“Thought it was named after Reinut,” he noted.
Flix chuckled. “The opposite is the truth. Ah, Reinut made a plunder of everything he ever laid his eyes on.”
“Eikenaar,” Glen said with a frown.
“Eiken… with a lots of arrs mixed in the pirates had roared, much as they do today, when Reinut had asked them where the fleet should moor,” Flix elucidated. "The biggest port on this side of Eplas. They raided it for days. Took over estates and buildings. Drunk and fucked their way through the whole city. The Fleet just wouldn’t leave and Reinut who expected them to pick him up after he had attacked Goras, was left stranded on hostile land. The God of Luck was on his side though, or someone else. He found a way out through Goddess’ Wall and the Zilan forces coming from the sea to catch him got swallowed by the waves.”
“What happened?” Glen asked. He’d heard the story of the Fall told differently.
“The earth came apart. Some… believe, it was Vermilion Peaks that exploded first. It was always smoking there since the First Era. Goras had grown around it. The ground was insanely fertile. The land of never-winter. Ah, Goras was three cities in a sense,” he sighed and stared at the dirt covering the ancient road. “Then the Rancor Sisters woke up in Elauthin and they had never done it afore, at least in living memory. The tremors so great, Quiceran’s Academy just crumbled to dust, the waves washing everything left standing away. In a week the Empire had been torn apart from East to West.”
“What happened to Reinut?” Glen asked, engrossed in the Gish’s tale.
“The Queen had caught the Pirate Attack Fleet in Eikenport, burned it and everything else to the ground. Either out of rage, or because they lost control of the Wyverns.”
“They?”
“The dragon riders. The Zilan had a ruling council. Those that could bond with a Wyvern were in it also. Some… surviving Zilan, believe the Issirs killed Tyrael, of Shael with their machines. Nenderu went into a rage and Turlas seeing his brother followed his lead. Cyran, of Qilana always had trouble controlling him. He was the late King’s Wyvern for too long and Cyran was a brusque warrior to bond with.”
“Over the Queen’s orders?”
“It is difficult to deny a Wyvern Garth. You can’t exactly talk with it,” he paused at that and grimaced.
“The Queen could though. She had the dagger.”
“Aye. She did,” Flix murmured.
“What happened to Reinut?” Glen asked again.
“The Queen learned of the devastation and sent the Wyverns back to help. Or they just returned on their own. She traveled to Oakenfalls herself, as it wasn’t affected by the earthquakes and the poison clouds. Reinut made it out, reached the destroyed Eikenport and stood paralyzed over the mayhem. Then he salvaged what he could and out of options cut off on Eplas, he traveled to fight her there. He kept the name to never allow anyone to question his rule again, or forget.”
“He had no fleet.”
“The Lorians ferried him from the Straits later. It wasn’t a popular decision, but some Lords seized their chance to break free. Human lords are like that.”
“How did he win against the Zilan there? His men must have been devastated?” Glen asked. This part he never understood. Having fought with Larn and seen Lith in action, it seemed unlikely the Issirs had a chance in open battle with them. Sure he got lucky with the catastrophe and made it out, but winning against the Queen? Even without counting the Wyvern.
“Reinut took his secrets to his grave,” Flix replied. “You’ve been to Oakenfalls.”
“There’s nothing there,” Glen said.
“It was the third biggest city in the Empire. Rida was a village compared to it. Remember Zilan built for size, not numbers. They didn’t like crowded places.”
Glen narrowed his eyes and stared at the massive mastaba. He remembered the destroyed pyramid where he’d found the dagger. What had happened there?
“How do you kill a Zilan riding a Wyvern up in the sky Garth?” Flix asked.
“I have no idea,” Glen replied. He thought of the Scorpions back in Rida and Marcus. The memory painful. “A very big bolt?”
Flix chuckled. “You’re going to need more than that.”
“Like what?”
The old Gish shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know, but some have suggested Reinut had an alchemist with him. Oakenfalls walls stood at over forty meters. No pirate army can break through solid stone, with Imperial Hoplites guarding them.”
Tales of the past. Glimpses of the future.
“I met a Seer in Merchant’s Triage,” Glen said, after a contemplating moment.
“Most are charlatans,” Flix argued and he nodded agreeing.
“She was pretty weird.”
“Uhm.”
“Most is not all, friend,” Glen said and the old Gish nodded agreeing in turn.
Which was very annoying.
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Glen kicked Metu awake, the slave jumping up from his sleeping spot outside the Mastaba.
“Master Garth?” He croaked glancing at the dark sky. “What hour is it?”
“The night just started,” Glen informed him. “But seeing as I have things need doing, I’ve no time to rest like you.”
“Of course, sire.”
“Where’s Gimoss?”
“Inside,” Metu replied.
“What’s he doing?” He asked although Glen could hear loud shoveling coming through the barred doors.
“Ahm, I opted not to ask Master Garth,” Metu was about ready to sleep on his feet.
Glen groaned.
“Help me open the door. Then stand outside and keep watch.”
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The darkness in the interior of the empty massive building was so thick, Glen got the lightstone hang from his neck out and waited for it to work, before taking another step inside. It took a long minute.
There were at least three large holes dug that weren’t there that morning. Gimoss was still into one of them shoveling dirt out furious.
“The fuck are ye doing?” Glen asked the corpse and his unlikely companion stopped to glare at him.
“We need to get the bones out of here fool!” Gimoss roared and Glen heard Biscuit moving somewhere in the dark, his sleep disturbed.
“Can you not scream at the top of yer lungs every time?”
“That’s what lungs are for!” Gimoss blasted him, twice as loud. “Grab a shovel and start digging!”
“Huh? Ye insane bag of rot! What the fuck for?”
“We don’t know who put them there! Or if any is missing!” Gimoss replied and with a grunt climbed out of the two meters deep grave he’d excavated. It took him a couple of tries to make it out and Glen just stood there watching him with a grin on his face.
“They are dead, Gimoss,” he told him. “What does it matter?”
“Are you an idiot?” The corpse blasted him. “Dead will kill you, if you let them near!”
“You’re dead.”
“You’re not getting it. You’re blind on top of a phony and a right idiot. In fact you’re thicker than the rocks they used to build this shite and even less useful!”
“Just so we’re clear and open here. I think you’re an insane piece of rot, but I’ll give ye the chance to explain,” Glen said finding his cool. Being slightly drugged probably helping with his nerves.
Gimoss pointed at his decaying chest. “There’s a soul in here! Mine. Do you now see the difference?”
“Ye gotta give me a bit more than that. I’ve heard a lot of things today and some were down right depressing. I lost another friend, I kind of liked way more than you.”
Glen didn’t consider Gimoss anywhere near a friend, but he left that part out.
“What do you want? A fucking shoulder to cry on? Who the fuck cares?” Gimoss taunted. “Remember when it came after you, back in Lebesos?”
“Sure,” Glen hissed through his teeth. He would have preferred not to remember it.
“That was dead, this isn’t,” Gimoss grunted and looked at his shovel. Glen took a step back, just in case. You never knew with him. “The Arachne knows fuck all about people, but there are creatures out there that do,” the possessed corpse explained, suddenly making more sense, his tone reminiscing. “Their dead are identical to the living. By the time you realize what they are, it’s too late.”
Great, another piece of horror to watch out for.
Gimoss was staring in the darkness, his freakish eye haunted.
“So how do we know if something is dead, other than getting rid of old bones?” He asked him, the light shining on the ancient corpse extremely unflattering.
“Not all bones and you ask them, how they died,” Gimoss replied.
“How did you die?” Glen asked, half-teasing half-serious.
“I didn’t,” Gimoss replied dryly.
“Right,” Glen murmured and pushed his hair back. “Well, I’ll check on Biscuit. You keep up… the good work.”
“You better hurry,” Gimoss said gleefully. “That idiot is about to kill your Gish.”
A shriek followed his words. It reverberated on the ancient walls, the otherworldly sound making his bones rattle. Glen had never heard Jinx scream so loud.
Luthos sagging ballsack caught in a vise!