Ardent Riese, so thoughtful of you to contact me in regards to this silly character who came into your hands. This man who claims to be Favored by Lord Saxion is either a fool or a liar. There is no lord who goes by the name of “Saxion”. I wish to see the man who uttered such a fabrication, but I am far too busy to make the journey. You and your people lack the internal 'resources' to properly discipline this individual, so I am sending help your way. Leoman, my servant, is visiting villages in your region for a very important summons. Instruct the elders of Inshod to hold onto this witless man until he arrives. Then give Leoman this letter, explain to him what you explained to me, then have him ascertain whether or not execution is warranted. I trust his judgment.
---
“You have to look at him.” Cale said, “He has been sitting in the corner like that the whole time. Well, he sleeps for a few hours at odd times. But then when he wakes up, he continues to sit just like that. He has been doing that for several days!”
It was hard to believe, now that Monu saw at the man he had saved a few nights ago. Khelen stood in the darkest corner of his cell, hiding in an alcove formed by the walls of the polyquisk molting used to construct the prison. He was still as pale as he had been on the night Monu found him, though he had since then grown a bit of golden stubble on the top of his scalp.
“Hard to believe he defeated two of us and Elder Malk, isn't it?” Cale said, the man shook his head. “Ardent Riese said he dropped Malk so fast...then he went straight for Culin and Shara before engaging Brin and Milo. So...I would not go too near the bars.”
“I will not.” Monu said, nodding as he relieved Cale.
Khelen said nothing all morning. Occasionally he paced the cell, inspecting the walls with his hands, exploring the contours of the polyquisk molt as if they fascinated him. He also seemed intrigued by the occasional faron which scuttled along the bars, clicking curiously, stopping occasionally to scan the cells with its big green eyes, fur bouncing as it moved. But Khelen did not say a single word. After hearing about his feats at the Ardent's place, it was amazing they were able to get him to comply enough to come here. Apparently when he saw the sunlight, he became stricken with such terror that all fight fled from him. Well, not exactly. Monu heard that though he did not put up much of a fight, he refused to go into the sunlight and would only struggle when the guards tried to drag him out. Ardent Riese ended up having to splash a bottle of alen essence in his face, inducing the man into sleep so he could be hauled out.
What man would dare attack an ardent anyway? And what man could take down three guardians by himself, one of them being a man who was renowned for his prowess even by the standards of the Nakar? What imprisoned man required a guard to watch over his cell? Monu had never heard of such a thing, yet the elders seemed to think it was necessary. He could not blame them of course. When the elders recovered, Shara spoke of phantoms and aberrations of the black fog. Culin was too shaken to speak, Ardent Riese was stubbornly quiet. The other elders, the ones who were still asleep when this all happened, were rather miffed nobody had awoken them. Though Monu suspected part of their ire came from missing the excitement. Oddly, Elder Malk seemed to relay his experience with a mixture of humiliation, awe, and dismay. Apparently neither he nor Milo and Brin had ever seen any Kel move so swiftly.
“You have to look at him.” Cale said, “He has been sitting in the corner like that the whole time. Well, he sleeps for a few hours at odd times. But then when he wakes up, he continues to sit just like that. He has been doing that for several days!”
It was hard to believe, now that Monu saw at the man he had saved a few nights ago. Khelen stood in the darkest corner of his cell, hiding in an alcove formed by the walls of the polyquisk molting used to construct the prison. He was still as pale as he had been on the night Monu found him, though he had since then grown a stripe of golden stubble on the top of his scalp.
“Hard to believe he defeated two of us and Elder Malk, isn't it?” Cale said, shaking his head, “Ardent Riese said he dropped Malk so fast...then he went straight for Culin and Shara before engaging Brin and Milo. So...I would not go too near the bars.”
“I will not.” Monu said, nodding as he relieved Cale.
Khelen said nothing all morning. Occasionally he paced the cell, inspecting the walls with his hands, exploring the contours of the polyquisk molt as if they fascinated him. He also seemed intrigued by the occasional faron which scuttled along the bars, clicking curiously, stopping occasionally to scan the cells with its big green eyes, fur bouncing as it moved. But Khelen did not say a single word. After hearing about his feats at the Ardent's place, it was amazing they were able to get him to comply enough to come here. Apparently when he saw the sunlight, he became so stunned, that all fight fled from him. Well, not exactly. Monu heard that though he did not put up much of a fight, he refused to go into the sunlight and would only struggle when the guards tried to drag him out. Ardent Riese ended up having to splash a bottle of alen essence in his face, knocking the man out so he could be hauled out.
What man would dare attack an ardent anyway? And what man could take down three guardians by himself, one of them being a man who was renown for his prowess even by the standards of the Nakar? What imprisoned man required a guard to watch over his cell? Monu had never heard of such a thing, yet the elders seemed to think it was necessary. He could not blame them of course. When the elders recovered, Shara spoke of phantoms and aberrations of the black fog. Culin was too shaken to speak, Ardent Riese was stubbornly quiet. The other elders, the ones who were still asleep when this all happened, were rather miffed nobody had awoken them. Though Monu suspected part of their ire came from missing the excitement. Oddly, Elder Malk seemed to relay his experience with a mixture of humiliation, awe, and dismay. Apparently neither he nor Milo and Brin had ever seen any Kel move so swiftly.
“Monu...” Khelen rasped. Monu stiffened at his name. The man was looking at him, fixing him with his dark eyes. “...the elders...have they...woken?”
Monu thought for a moment before answering, “They have.”
Khelen seemed to be satisfied at the response because he returned to silence for a few moments. But then he got up and walked over to the wall and ran his hand over its contours. “You must...regret bringing...me here.” Khelen said, almost chuckling.
“I am a guardian.” Monu said, “I am sworn to protect those in this region.”
“I...don't remember...how I got here.” Khelen said. “I remember pain...I remember...seeing a purple...'haze'? People...were talking, there was static.”
“Static?” Monu repeated, not knowing the meaning of the word.
“But...before that...before you found me, I don't remember...I think I am...missing several days from my biological memory.”
“You have memory loss?” Monu asked, wondering what he meant by “biological memory”. That would perhaps explain the strange way the man spoke.
“Only...the days...before I came here.” Khelen said, “Do you...believe there can be...aliens?”
“I...well, not many foreigners come to Inshod.” Monu said, “We are far from the big cities and highways. But I have met plenty of them.”
“No.” Khelen said, “Not from...other regions. Worlds. Do your people believe there...can be aliens...or visitors...from other worlds?”
“Well...everybody has stories about visitors from the heavens.” Monu said, “It varies from culture to culture. But most of those stories are just that: stories. Why?”
“My home...it does not have a 'sun'.” Khelen said.
“You are...you are saying you are from another world?” Monu asked in disbelief, “That you came to Sacrin somehow...from a place that has no sun? That this is not your...Sacrin is not your planet?”
“Do I sound...crazy?” Khelen asked with a hint of a smile on his face.
“Well...yeah.” Monu said honestly. Khelen turned with his back to the wall and sat, looking at the square of sunlight which poured through the small carved window near the ceiling.
“Speaking is tiresome.” Khelen said, “Many of my people do not. Not...like this. Not necessary. I was trained in...spoken word. I am fluent, but it is inefficient. I have to slow myself...and choose words, shape them. It is difficult for me to convey complex ideas through verbal communication. Especially if they sound....stupid. I can't...show you the...self-diagnostic...the...analysis. I have 'thought' about what I saw. I have concluded that I am no longer on Scrul.”
“Scrul?” Monu repeated.
“That is the name of my world.” Khelen said, “If you had a cypher, I could...simply 'show' you...the data...show you how I came to the conclusion that I...somehow vanished from my world and...appeared here.”
“Friend,” Monu said, “I mean no insult to you, but I do not know if anything you showed me could convince me of that. You are unique, I will give you that. I mean...how would you get here?”
A soft smile creased the corners of Khelen's mouth, “I have...a few guesses...but I am still...evaluating them.”
“Fair enough I suppose...” Monu said, “But you also said...what phrase did you use, 'spoken word'? Your 'people' don't speak? I don't see how that would make a lot of sense. How would a culture that does not speak even function?”
Khelen seemed to think a moment before answering. Then he loosened the garment around his top and exposed the grotesque, insect-like thing in his back. “This.” He said, tapping it, “We use this. Riese called it ‘lore’. We call it technology. Decades and centuries of artificial evolution.” Khelen’s sentences were fragmented, ideas that would have provided context, were missing from them. He seemed to realize this. “Our technology is advanced. We have integrated it into our bodies. The cypher is a machine, an artificial organ. Programmed to grow in us at birth. We talk to each other using it. It is quick.”
“Ah...” Monu said. Though he could not fathom most of the things Khelen said, “So...how...is that supposed to work? Do you hear their words in your head?”
“Yes...no.” Khelen said, uncertain of how to convey his answer, “Could be words, thoughts, images...ideas. It is complicated. But it is much...faster than spoken word. Point is is...I can't hear them. I can't contact the feed...because there is no feed here. I have...'lore' in my cypher that allows me to speak your language, but when you stop speaking...when somebody leaves the room...it is silent. You...cease to exist. Your world is strange.”
Was there fear in his voice? It was hard to tell since it was flat, but Monu thought he heard a trill of concern, and he did not know what to say to the strange man. It was not his duty to placate him and even if it were, he lacked the words. Besides, Khelen had a bigger thing to fear whether he knew it or not: he had attacked an ardent of the lords. The future did not look bright for such a person.
“How long...will I be here?” Khelen asked after another bout of silence passed between them.
“I do not know.” Monu said honestly, “I don't know what happened with you and Ardent Riese. But you attacked an Ardent, three village elders, and two guardians. If she thinks you have somehow learned the lore of the lords, then that alone is grounds for imprisonment. The lords are masters of the Gaps. It is their inheritance. They know how dangerous it can be if misused. So they choose very carefully which knowledge of the gaps they can share.”
“Gaps?” Khelen repeated.
“Uh...I...don't know much about them.” Monu said uncomfortably, it was a knowledge that was taboo to all Kel except ardents. “But I have heard that there are 'gaps' all around us, invisible to our eyes. A person who can see them can do things, see things...they can perform magic. A Kel, like myself, would have to be trained by a Nikral lord in order to see the gaps, but only after approval. I can actually use the gaps a little bit. I can whisper a word and summon small bursts of heat. But that is an innate talent. I do not have an Ardent's knowledge. I cannot see them.”
“But...you are not criminalized.” Khelen said.
“Gaplings such as myself are considered an exception.” Monu said, “It is something I can just 'do'. I don't know how and I can't learn anything from it. So I am considered harmless unless I start burning houses down.”
Monu stiffened as Khelen got up and approached the bars of his cell. “Show me.” he demanded, “Can you...” he looked around the floor and found a dead leaf that had drifted in. “can you burn this?”
“Uh...sure.” Monu whispered a gleaning to the leaf. It curled, darkened, and burst into flame.
Khelen's only reaction was to cock his head and raise his eyebrows. “You do not know how you did this?” he asked.
“No.” Monu shook his head.
“When you spoke, no sound came from your mouth.” Khelen said.
“Strange, is it not?” Monu said nervously, “Nobody but me can hear it. It is called a 'gleaning', though I don't know why they call it that.”
“Can you...do it again?” Khelen asked looking around for something Monu could burn.
“Here.” the guard said, retrieving one of the hanging oil lanterns. He set it on the ground and whispered a gleaning to the wick. It flickered to life.
Khelen stared blankly at it, his expression inscrutable.
“What?” Monu asked.
“Cyatics.” he said, “My people, we don't...call them 'gaps'. We call them cyatic bands.”
A trill of fear jabbed Monu’s chest. Khelen was about to explain information that was forbidden to him. But at that moment, Inshod's horns trumpeted the notes of Lord U'shal. Somebody was coming.
---
Simian knew they neared Inshod when he awoke to find himself thrown against the wall. Well...more like “rolled” into it, really. Leoman's wargs took the first turn on the Carobi Steps with no amount of subtlety and the result was Simian's impact with the side of the wheeled prison. Groaning, the man sat up and caressed his nose, which had borne the brunt of the blow. His fingers came off slicked with blood. His bloodied nose wasn't the only wound on his body. The entire jail-cart had been formed of hammered metal that had been shaped to resemble bones. Only a meager amount of blankets had been given to him to cushion him from the many awkward ends and edges that knuckled the walls of the chamber. His whole body was covered in aches and bruises, not just from being jostled about, but from merely laying or sitting on the bloody things.
The design was intentionally miserable of course, completely in line with the Nikral's tastes. When they decided they did not like somebody, they wanted to make that person's life very, very uncomfortable before they were executed. Leoman pridefully called the chamber he had locked Simian up in the “bone tickler”. “If you ride in it long enough,” he said, “It'll tickle your bones!” All the knobs, all the awkward protrusions, the textures, they were his idea. Sculpted ribs and knuckled alloys cast shadows of relief as the sun caught them. No matter where Simian stepped, lay, or sat, something was always poking him. It was designed to drive one insane.
“Are you awake now? You should see the blunbar creeps! They have just started to bloom!” a grinding, yet reedy voice called from outside, “How wonderful! I do wish Lord U'shal would plant some of those in his gardens. Maybe I should bring back a few. Did you know I came up with a recipe for blunbar creeps, Heretic?”
It took Simian a moment to realize Leoman was talking to him. Well, who else would he talk to? There was nobody else around and the thing hardly ever shut up. It kept jabbering on about its recipes, about its twin brother, about the Nikral, about what kinds of sounds it liked, sounds it hated, about the weather, its toes, anything it could think of. He suspected Leoman's unstopping chattiness was part of the torture he had been sentenced to. “Well, I put them in soup. You see, you get a few wild tubers of asfrit, add some pepper and...wait...oh, you better hold on Heretic! I see a few boulders coming up, this ride could get rough!”
Groaning, Simian stood up in the corner, his bruises protesting, and supported himself by standing on his feet and leaning with his hands against the back wall, bending both his knees and elbows slightly. It was a stance he had learned to assume in order to minimize the injuries he received during rough spots. He waited for the inevitable jostling the Lyosh would subject him to and felt the cart vibrate a little bit as it passed over a few rocks.
“Huh...” Leoman said from above, “Those were not as bad as I thought they would be.”
Simian relaxed and walked over to the clothes that had somehow rolled over to the opposite corner. He was halfway there when the entire cart heaved, sending him stumbling to the ground and smacking him against the floor. Several more jostles banged up his sides and back, forming new bruises on top of old ones.
“But those ones were just as bad as I thought they would be!” the damn Lyosh crooned, “Gotta watch those boulders! Lots and lots of boulders! Big ones! Small ones! Strange ones! Unbelievable! I really should speak to the elders about this road. It is shameful really, don't you think? I know they don't get many visitors, but they should grab some shovels and do something about all these rocks! They're all over the place! Well...hold that thought.” he paused, “Melvin's bronze eye! Looks like they have been working on it up ahead!”
“Yeah...I am sure they have.” Simian scoffed, the trembling cart quaking his voice.
“No, really!” Leoman insisted from outside the grating, “Looks like they've been digging the rocks up and piling them on the side of the road. Some of them are quite big, I'm impressed they were able to move those actually, must have used some wargs to haul them. Either way, this road looks so much better now that they got those out of the way!”
Simian braced himself. Leoman was a liar, so he did not trust anything the creature said. So when the ride actually did transition from rough quakes to a smooth, gentle sway, he was genuinely surprised. After the constant never-ending battering of these mountain roads, this felt like bliss. It felt like diving into a cool stream at the end of a hot trek. Simian was half-tempted to lie back down on the blankets the Lyosh had provided him. But he waited...knowing from past experience that creature was a bastard.
“This is nice!” Leoman said, “Not a boulder in sight! A smooth ride, blumbar flowers in bloom, birds singing...ahhh. I tell you, I should really come to the mountains more often. The only thing I have to watch out for is the considerable number of-” Immediately the right side of the cart dropped about a foot then abruptly swung up at Simian. If his hands had not been between his cheeks and the floor, the floor probably would have knocked a tooth out. Stars swam across his vision as he was battered by a new series of concussions.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
“-potholes!” Leoman hollered, “Lots and lots of potholes! Big ones! Small ones! Strange ones! My mistake, Heretic! Wow! There are so many of them! They must have been left by all those rocks they removed! Really, now…why didn't they fill these in? Are all mountain Kel so lazy and incompetent? What if an important traveler damages their fragile cargo on these roads?” The cart came to a stop and the grating slid open. Leoman's disgustingly wide face peered through it. Like the rest of his people, his yellow eyes, each bigger than Simian's fist, seemed to be caught in a perpetual state of surprise. Two slits above his mouth served the place of a “nose”. His mouth, which spread from one cheek to the other gave the impression that it was always grinning. “Are you all right?” Leoman asked, “You're leaking blood in my cart.”
The blood from Simian's nose had run into his mouth, mixing with saliva which now hang in a crimson string. It pooled between the pits and crevices on the “bone tickler's” floor. Well...that explained the seemingly random “rust” stains he had been seeing covering the interior of the carriage. He glared up at the miserable beast and wiped the blood on his sleeve. “I guess that works.” Leoman said, “I was going to offer water but...”
“If I ask for water,” Simian groaned, “You will duck down, pretend to grab a canteen. But then when you return, you will spit it at me through the bars as a joke. Is that right?”
Leoman looked a bit crestfallen, “What is the point of having a reputation if it spoils my fun?” the man murmured, “Well...try not to bleed all over my cart. It is a nightmare to clean. I had a man try to relieve himself in here a few trels ago, did you know that? He just could not wait until we stopped. He got his stream all over the walls and floor, it was absolutely disgusting! We never could get all the residues completely scrubbed out! So...just please...don't make it any worse okay, Heretic?”
At this, Leoman gave a screechy laugh and shut the grate. A moment later the cart lurched into motion. Simian braced himself as it took another one of the Carobi steps turns.
“I must say I do enjoy your company!” the Lyosh hollered over the din of the wargs, “I am excited to see your performance in the Feast. Oh...it has been so long since I have seen one of those. Do you wish for any survival tips?”
“Survival?” Simian scoffed, “Your masters mean to let me live then?”
“You mistake me.” Leoman said, “When I say 'survival', I mean 'do you want to know how to live as long as possible?' Run...run as fast as you can, do what you have been doing. You are good at running, by the way. But then again...what Kel isn't? Just don't get caught by Lord Ba'rul, or Nisha, or Runai. They love the chase...and they love making the kill last. The longer the run, the more they enjoy seeing how many screams they can extract before you die. If you want a quick death, U'shal will be happy to provide...”
At that moment, a horn blasted in the distance, playing the notes which announced the arrival of U'shal's representative. “But if you want help surviving,” Leoman continued as if he had not heard the horns “I can be bought...”
“No you cannot.” Simian knew better, “This is where you pretend to give me a chance for freedom....get my hopes up, and then you turn around and say you were joking.”
“Your sources are very good!” Leoman snickered, “You know me very well, perhaps better than I know myself! If I should have any self-doubts or personal fears that I am struggling with, perhaps I should come to you to seek advice on introspection! That is what old people do, is it not?”
Simian sat back down and massaged his many hurts as the cart turned off the Carobi steps toward Inshod, their last stop. One more chance for him to be humiliated before the Feast, humiliated for a crime he did not commit. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. And he happened to match the heretic's description, the one who actually uttered the litany of treasons against the lords. The actual heretic spoke of Sacrin's cries, and of sleeping ones who would come to hold the Nikral to account for their folly. Whatever folly that may have been, Simian did not know. Nor did he care any longer.
---
Ardent Riese kept palming Lord U'shal's letter nervously as she and the elders waited for Leoman's carriage. Elder Malk stood to her right, still sporting a bandage over his head. Elders Shara and Culin were sporting similar bandages, but they also had angry bruises on their throats, which made it difficult for them to speak. Riese herself had trouble swallowing from Khelen's strike, and she was sore in several spots. Normally, she suspected the lords letter to cause conflict among the elders. Even though the lords' rule was sovereign, there was always a “hesitance” for Kel to hand one of their own over for sentencing. They would often contest it, which was a right afforded to them. The Nikral were not tyrants, they ruled with sternness, but they were fair. But Khelen had proved he was not...normal. He was an aberration. So when Riese had shown the elders of Inshod the letter, there had been almost zero discussion of defending the man. He was to be handed over to Leoman without hesitation.
By now, the entire village of Inshod had come out of their homes and had gathered around the center, murmuring silently as Leoman approached. Riese tensed as she heard the first din of his carriage: clattering claws and chinking metal. A trio of wargs, each painted with a strip matching one of Lord U'shall's colors: Red, Green, Orange. Then Leoman's carriage appeared behind them, flanked on both sides by guardians riding their mounts. The carriage itself was unmistakably of Lyosh design. Leoman's race were superb metal-workers, their crafts running hundreds, perhaps thousands of bentlings. The technique used for the carriage was instantly recognized as skinmolding, where metal alloy was hammered and shaped over another object to form a thin “skin”. The objects used in the carriage walls appeared to be an assortment of bones from various beasts arranged in such a way that they provided a certain macabre symmetry to the cart. This cart towed in front of another, more mundane covered wagon formed of husk sides.
Leoman himself sat in front of the cart. As was characteristic of the Lyosh, his pink face was fat and wide, and limned at the edges with quill-like whiskers. Three of his arms, his two shoulder limbs and one of the arms on his torso, held onto the reigns while the other shaded his large eyes. As he saw the elders, they gave him a respectful bow. He brought the carriage to a stop at the edge of the village, got up and stretched, his four arms spreading like pedals of a flower. He was covered in husk plating that had been burnished with the same alloy that formed the cart. Lyosh were not as tall as the lords. In fact, they weren't much taller than the average Kel. But they were strong and many of the villagers have never seen a member of Leoman's race before, so they muttered nervously.
Leoman heard the muttering so he looked around at the crowd and silence fell. But he did not appear to be angry. In fact, he appeared rather amused, though it was sometimes hard to tell with his people. They always appeared to be smiling. Leoman glanced at the lords, saw at their wounds and gave them a look of confusion. “What happened to you?” the look said. But instead of engaging the elders he looked at the crowd again until he saw a child holding onto her mother's hand. Leoman approached her and crouched to the ground in front of her.
“Hello!” he said cheerfully in a voice that did not match his appearance, “My name is Leoman! What is your name?”
The girl hesitated, looking up at her mom for help. But her mother placed her hands on her daughters shoulders and gently coaxed her forward. “T-tuli...” she said softly.
“T-tuli?” Leoman repeated, “I have never met somebody named T-tuli before!”
“...Tuli...” Tuli said.
“Oh...” Leoman feigned embarrassment, “My mistake. Well, Tuli...do you know who I am?”
“...No.” Tuli shifted uncomfortably and avoided looking at the Lyosh's face, choosing instead to look at the cobbled road, tracing circles with her feet.
“Ah...” Leoman said playfully, “Do you know what I am?”
“...” Tuli didn't answer.
“Ugly?” Leoman answered for her, “Scary? I look like something you've probably seen in your nightmares, right? Come on, go ahead and say it, I will not be hurt!”
“Yes...” Tuli answered after a silence.
“Ohh!!!” Leoman gasped dramatically, covering his face with his torso arms. “How could you say such a mean thing to me?!”
Riese had never met Leoman, though she had heard of the man when Lord U'shal had first employed him a few years back. What she saw in front of her did not align with the rumors of both him and his twin. She knew what he was doing, yes. She knew he was trying to ingratiate himself with the villagers of Inshod, make them feel less afraid. But she had no idea he had such a knack for befriending children. Already, Tuli's mouth began to curl slightly at Leoman's oafish behavior.
“But...it's true.” Leoman said, pretending to wipe away a few tears, “I am ugly. Well...I look better than my brother. People say we look alike...but I think I look just slightly less hideous than he does. Say, do you want to hear a joke? Why do Lyosh like me have four arms?”
“..I-”
“Two to hammer metal,” Leoman raised his shoulder arms, “one to hold my food so I can eat while I work,” he raised a torso arm, “and the other to pick my nose while I eat!”
“But...” Tuli grinned shyly, “You...do not have a nose.”
“I-” Leoman frowned, then used one of his torso arms to feel around on his face for the missing nose. “Grab a wulup's tail, it was just there this morning! What happened to it?!”
A few of the villagers chuckled. Laughing, Leoman tussled Tuli's hair and stood back up. Then he slowly moved out in front of the people, holding his shoulder arms behind his back.
“I love Kel children.” he announced, turning to them, “I always have. They have such...'life' to them. And they laugh at my jokes. Lord U'shal never does that. Can you believe that?” he looked around and stopped, spotting a couple of boys, who had climbed on top of a nearby husk hut to get a better view, “Can you believe that, little roof-Kel?” The boys' embarrassed parents strolled over and angrily gestured for them to get down. “It is excruciatingly difficult to get my master and employer to laugh!”
He waited for the boys to slide down before continuing, “But as I was saying, the children of Kel are precious to me. I do hate frightening them, so I always try to make new friends like little Tuli over there. But...” Leoman's tone took a more dire edge, “what I say here today will...be frightening for the ears of little ones. So I ask for every mother, or father, take your children inside. Or take them for a stroll in the woods, or for a swim in your rivers. Take them somewhere where they cannot listen.” The village began to murmur, husbands turned to wives and conversed rapidly. “-And do it swiftly!” Leoman clapped his hands, “Go on! Get the children out of here!”
Fathers passed off the children to their mothers, who took them by the hand and led them hesitantly away from the square. The town filled with the sound of doors shutting and windows latching. Occasionally, a child protested against being dragged away from something exciting. As Riese watched them go, she felt ice settling in her chest. Nervous feet shifted against the stone as last parents left with their children. Leoman took a moment to look around at all the windows and roofs to make sure nobody was peaking. Then he faced the crowd.
“Inshod, I introduced myself to little Tuli as Leoman.” he said, “To you, I introduce myself as a messenger of Lord U'shal. And sometimes...jailer, fabricator, and heckler. That means sometimes I get to build his prisons, arrest people to throw in them, then harass them with my asinine humor.” Leoman picked a stone up off the road, turned around and hurled it at the cart he had towed. It bounced off the side with a loud “clang”. Somebody inside the metal contraption groaned softly. The Lyosh turned back to his audience “I want to ask you all a question: How do you live in these mountains?”
To Riese's left and right, people were looking at each other as if unsure what answer they should give. Finally, one stepped forward. “We are family, Leoman Eth.” he said, “We all contribute to the welfare of Inshod. We have our hunters who gather meat, we trade fur for...”
“No.” Leoman said dangerously, “Anybody else?” he looked around, “Perhaps my question was ill-phrased, so let me put it forth to you again: How are you able...to live here?”
This time, one of the elders stepped forward, Elder Thormon. “We are able to live here because the Nikral have defeated the colossi that harassed our ancestors.” Ardent Riese groaned to herself at the answer. She had engaged the man in several debates as to whether or not the colossi were still alive. But there were some like him, who were under the mistaken belief that the Nikral's victory has come and gone. Part of the reason Nikral began to select ardents was so that they could send them out and educate the people. In this regard, Thormon was a testament to Riese's failure.
“Close...very close, but NO!” Leoman bellowed. There was no mistaking his expression now. It was venomous. “You are able to live in these mountains not because the lords have defeated the colossi. You live here because they are still fighting the colossi! The monoliths are not dead, they have never been defeated, simply harried! Right now, the Nikral are warring with the beasts! They have never stopped warring ever since their emergence!”
At this, Riese stepped forward and immediately felt Leoman's gaze shoot toward her, “Please forgive Elder Thormon, Eth.” she said, “The previous ardent, my predecessor, filled their heads with false ideas, some were even treasonous. I have tried to correct Thormon's view, but the other ardent had been with them a long time...earned his trust. To him, I am young-”
“Yes...” Leoman said, “would you be surprised to hear that this man's ignorance is being shared by numerous Kel all across the north?” he turned back to the town and began to stroll, “There are villages...entire village full of people just like you who believe as this...'wizened' old man does: that the danger is gone. They think that because their villages have never been trampled, then surely the colossi must no longer exist! The lords do not know how this happened! They are baffled! Some have even gone so far as to suggest that the Nikral are basking in a victory that has been long past! Pitiful rebellions have broken out in the towns of Karel and Ushek Down! I can name others if I wish!”
Several of the villagers muttered the word “rebellion” to themselves in disbelief.
“The lords have sent out their ardents,” he continued, “they have even met with the instigators of these little rebellions themselves, tried to reason with these people! But you all are growing complacent! Complacent and stubborn! Your tranquility has blinded you with the illusion of safety, an illusion so strong, it has blinded you! I want to show you the price of such FOLLY!”
Leoman bellowed the last word, drew a wicked looking black blade from his belt, then angrily strolled over to the cart made of metal-worked bone and slapped a hand against its surface. What happened next drew a gasp from the villagers. The metal coating retracted, leaving only strands of argent behind on the bleached bones beneath. Knuckles grasped at ribs and pulled them away, unfolding them like the slabs of an iris, opening up a circular port in the side of the cart. The circle widened until it became large enough to admit a person. Leoman climbed in and dragged out a man covered in tattered clothes and bruises. Streaks of gray peppered the man's shoulder-length hair.
“I want to introduce you to somebody special.” Leoman asked, pressing the tip of the blade to the man's side, he stiffened visibly. “He has a name, but his name is no longer important! What is important is that he will be participating in The Feast of Retribution!”
The town held its breath. Some of the villagers have heard word of the feast, but it had not been made official to them until now. Some of them repeated the phrase as if it were poison to their lips. “This traitor has been uttering heresies, heresies which I will not name because of their ugliness!” Leoman spat, “However, the falsehoods he uttered were far less harmless and far more daft than the ignorance espoused by your town invalid! Yet those lesser falsehoods have warranted the lords' ire because they, also have been spreading. Their origin? Who knows? But he is to be a celebrant in the Feast of Retribution, he will have the honor of being hunted and gutted by his lords for his folly! And you all get to watch!” He dragged the man, threw him into the cart then slapped the bones again. The bones slid back into place and the metal poured back over them before solidifying.
“That is why I am here.” Leoman said, “The village of Inshod has been summoned to give witness to the feast. I will of course leave a document explaining who is exempt from attending, but for those who have no exemption, you are required to bear witness to the price of idiocy!”
Summoned...to give witness. Oh Lord U'shal, Riese thought, it was more horrible than she could have anticipated, being summoned to a Retribution Feast. The thought of slaughter was horrifying enough to the average Kel, but being commanded to watch. She had heard stories of how the lords became when they held these feasts. The thought of what these people, what she would see made her feel sick. It was a sentiment being shared by the horrified whispers of the townspeople.
“I am not finished.” Leoman said, “I have only spoken of Feast. I have not spoken of the greater punishment.”
“W-what?!” Riese blurted before she could stop herself. What could be worse than the Feast of Retribution?
“Yes Ardent.” the Lyosh stared at her, “Those who are participating in the Retribution Feasts are less dangerous than those who accuse the lords of being liars. So...starting one year from now: The lords will take far greater punitive measures: For one trel only, they will withdraw the ancient totem walkers from the west coast. The colossi will be free to do as they wish.”
“No!” Riese shouted, “They cannot!”
“Yes!!” Leoman screamed, his face burning violet with rage, “They have decided you...WE, as my people are just as daft and as stubborn as yours, all need a solid reminder of why they are lords! You call them liars, you cast doubt on their actions, their rules! This is the result! So one year from now, you better be far away from your town. For this is the nesting place of Nexu...it was his home long before any Kel settled here. It is the home he tries to come to when he is reborn! Flee, pack your bags and flee. Get away from here and leave that stupid old fool behind if you must. If an ardent's word will not sway him from his dementia, maybe having his decrepit dusty old bones crushed into the mountain will change his mind!”
“They cannot!” Riese repeated, pleading “They cannot be considering this! Most of us accept their rule, we do doubt them! I have seen the colossi myself, I have seen those things! Why punish society for the ignorance of a few?”
“Because it is a disease, Ardent.” Leoman said, “In only a few years, these 'few' have become 'a few hundred', then 'a few thousand'. It is an endemic, I tell you. You are only ignorant of this because you have been living up here where the air is thin and few come.”
---
Riese was still trembling when the guardians knocked at her door. Leoman stood beside them, all signs of his fury vanished. Now he seemed the cheerful oaf he had portrayed to the little girl, Tuli. Outside, people were weeping in the streets. Inside their homes, they were wailing. Riese wanted to join them, oh she wanted to join them. It was not fair that their village, along with the entire west coast had been condemned for the folly of a few. But she saw the logic in the lords' decision, it was an obvious logic. She had trouble convincing one man...just one man that his views were misinformed. If this epidemic of ignorance was widespread among villages, then the only argument the lords could make in defense of themselves was to let the colossi loose.
“Ardent Riese...” Leoman crooned, “I was told by the elders you have something for me.”
“I do.” she said, fighting to get the tremor out of her voice. “Please, follow to my office, Leoman Eth.”
“Just...Leoman will do.” Leoman said, “Formality is for the public. 'Eth' does not fit me. Tell me...have some of your elders been in a fist fight lately?”
“That...” Riese said as she led him up the stairs, “is actually why I wanted to talk to you. We had a stranger arrive about a trel ago.”
As she opened the door, Skrit darted past their feet. How did he always manage to get stuck in there? The Rikitat wriggled comically down the hallway, chased its tail for a few circles then shot up the wall to hide in an unlit lantern.
“Funny things, those are.” Leoman said, following the creature with his large eyes.
Riese offered him a chair then took a seat behind her desk. The Lyosh seemed intrigued by the various gadgets she had collected over the years. But then he took the seat she offer him, his sides straining the arms. Silence passed between them for a few moments before he spoke. “Well?”
“Sorry...” Riese started, her horror at the Lyosh's announcements obfuscated her thoughts. But she used her training to push them aside and held out Lord U'shal's letter. Leoman reached out with his torso arms, which passed it up to his shoulder arms, and flipped the letter so he could read it. As his eyes scanned the pages, his mouth pantomimed the Nikral's words. When he was finished, he handed the letter back to Riese and scratched his whiskers.
“Lord...Saxion?” he asked, “There is somebody going around claiming to be a Favored of a Lord Saxion?”
“Not...exactly.” Riese said, “Between the time I sent the letter and the time you arrived, there have been 'revelations'. Am I right to assume you built that jail you are towing?”
“Beautiful, isn't she? I built it, yes.” Leoman crooned with pride, “But Lord U'Shal imbued it with lore. His knowledge is beyond me, but alloys are one of my passions. Why?
Riese ducked under her desk and picked up the Khelen's cylindrical vessel. She placed it on the desk in front of her. Leoman reached out with his torso limbs and pulled it toward him, tumbling it gracefully through all four of his hands, scanning it with the gaze of his large eyes. “No hammer marks, no brush marks, the alloy...I cannot tell what it is. The design is plain. Well-crafted, expertly crafted in fact, but plain” he asked.
“It opens.” Riese said. He looked up at her confused.
“Opens?” he repeated, examining it from all angles. “How? I see no indication that it opens.”
“Seams appear and it opens.” Riese said.
“Did a lord make it then?” he asked, clearly intrigued.
“No. It belongs to the stranger mentioned in that letter. And only he can open it.”
Leoman set the vessel back onto the table, leaned in with a hungry gaze in his eyes,
“Please, tell me more...”
---
“These are intriguing!” Leoman said later that night as he inspected Khelen's artifacts, running a hand over the four-legged structure, “Oh, for certain I cannot execute him!” He picked up the garment they had removed from Khelen when Riese had knocked him out. “This!” he gasped, “I have never seen such...how?! Ardent, this is extraordinary! And you said...this goes into his back? As in it penetrates his flesh?”
“Holes in his flesh.” Riese said.
“This...I cannot call it metalworking.” Leoman crooned, “There has to be another word for this...artistry. No, I cannot execute this man. This surely is a lore forbidden to him. All of this is! The lords will want to question this individual. They will want to find out how he obtained such knowledge. The world has lost its mind, has it not? Kel...with the lore of lords...absolutely maddening. I will go grab some guardians, have them load all of this onto my wagon. Then I wish to meet this Khelen.”
“He is violent.” Riese warned.
“So I have heard.” Leoman said, “But do not worry. I know how to move him safely. Do you know if any...of the prisoners you obtained are sensitive to malide gas?”
---
Khelen was by himself again, alone with the silence. To keep his mind from thinking about his situation, he had enabled a few games. Staring at the wall, he watched his avatar fight off a horde of blue and red sprites. After he defeated them, the entire ground erupted with an army of zippers, named for the way they zipped back and forth, leaving behind lines of electricity. To escape from the danger, his avatar cast a line up to the window in the ceiling of the cell, and frantically climbed while shooting down at the zippers. But as it neared the window, a new army of zippers poured over the threshold. His avatar leapt off, sailed through the air and slammed into the middle of the cell floor, the impact taking a huge chunk out of its vitality. He was about to use one of the clusterbombs he had been saving when hand reached through the window and dropped something. The object was a round ball the size of his fist and it was shooting up smoke. It rolled through his avatar and spun in place, releasing plumes of violet mist. Khelen leapt up and made to kick at the object but his intake of air drew in some of the smoke. He felt himself growing lightheaded. No...He dosed Drive in order to counteract the effect, but he had already taken in too much of the vapor. He stumbled to the ground and passed out.