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THE FORGES OF XARXOS, the Pyrn Realm of the Siblings
Xarxes of the Forge was not what I expected him to look like. When one thinks of a dragon-adjacent god who presumably loves fire-related things, you’d think he’d be a walking fire hazard. Think Ghost Rider but taller, stronger, and maybe a tad bit incestuous if the Greek Gods were examples to be considered. But Xarxes of the Forge was…
Well, to put it plainly, disappointing.
He was a short man, near half my height, with burning embers where his eyes should have been and charcoal-black skin. In a way, he looked burnt. Ripples of red that looked like raw, bleeding flesh showed where his skin fissured, exposing hints of raw bone that made me slightly nauseous, even without my stomach and its contents, for that matter.
He had no hair; the crown of his head possessed only a gruesome scar that ran diagonally across his scalp. I could see hints of a cracked skull from where I stood and even what lay below it.
Blackened brain, I thought, fighting off the wince.
This dude was clearly the Hephaestus equivalent of whatever gods ruled around here.
He was sat on a throne of volcanic rock, with crusts of giant gems spouting from its crevices. The throne was at least twenty feet in height, its looming shadow leaving all who stood in front of it. Runic glyphs glowed a molten red along either side of it, each one pulsating as if alive. For something so small, they provided me with enough light to make out the dragon god.
I waited, feeling intimidated. As much as I hated to admit it, the man made me uncomfortable. The exposed muscles of his jaws seemed to twitch as he regarded me with interest, those eyes of his flickering with every passing glance. It seemed almost like he was blinking in his own fashion.
I averted my eyes in an attempt to calm myself. There was not a lot I could see in his throne room. The floor was of a slick black stone, and I could spy some patterns engraved into it. But other than that, it felt as if I had been swallowed by a black hole. Instead, I focused all my attention on my hands. Well, whatever had taken their place. Physically, my real body was no doubt being picked up by local authorities after one too many children had poked me with a stick with no such response from the stimuli. With Aphrodite, my body had felt physically intact. But after her whole burning session, I was now just a floating blue orb.
It was what I could best describe as my soul: a blue-ish whisp of my essence that gave off some light. My motor control had kicked in as if I still was bipedal, but it translated into a totally different mode of travel. Pretty cool as these things go, but still a mile off where I wanted to be. As if the vagueness of my future reproductive system was not vague enough…
Xarxes of the Forge was not giving me anything to work with either. For someone all powerful, he sure enjoyed silence. Minus the vague sound of something bubbling in a distance, the chamber I had been brought to could have been my tomb.
“Boy,” he finally rasped after what seemed like an eternity. The scratchy tone of his voice drew out what I could only describe as goosebumps. “You are to be my champion?”
“Uh…yes, sir-…sir,” I squeezed out, staring at the floor.
Has the ground always been so close to my orb?
“For one of the Greats of the Earthern Realm, you cower much,” Xarxes noted, almost in disdain. “Is this the best your kind can produce? Raise thine gaze upon mine own.”
Somehow, somehow, I managed. Where once there had been embers, now there was a flame. It was a rifling red one, the sight alone which made my gaze turn away at once. Moreover, just gazing at it seemed to fill me with that warmth I had experienced with Aphrodite again, but this time it was searing. Where the other was calming, this one was unhinged and hellbent on consuming my very existence.
Nah, fuck this, I thought. I was not built for confrontation. Especially not as a floating ball with no apparent mass.
“Uh… Lord Xarxes? Can I call you that, your Magnificence? Uh, there’s this huge misunderstanding. I’m not a… Great of the Earth or whatever Aphrodite said I was. I’m… a clerk at a bookstore. I keep records of books and transactions and tend the register. I’m not…” I winced. “I’m not a hero or a champion. Just a normal guy who died and picked up the job no other dead person apparently wanted.”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
To my surprise, his flaming hot eyeballs actually…. calmed down. Or at least I was sensing that seething hatred was no longer aimed at me at the very least. A stretch of silence formed between us, with him looking more than a bit miffed at the thought of being swindled and me content with shrinking into as small a form as possible.
“I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER THAN TO TRUST THAT LYING SHREW!” All at once, his throne room blazened with light. Behind him, rivers of magma exploded to the fore out of nowhere, cascading down a ridge I hadn’t noticed before into a shallow pool. The magma bubbled and flowed, running across the patterns I had been staring at like runnels of metal in a sandy mould. Like a monkey, I sprang as far away as possible, playing possibly the most dangerous game of ‘The Floor Is Lava’ I had ever encountered. An explosion of heat forced my orb body backwards, crisping up what I had previously thought could not possibly be crisped any further.
The stench of sulphur left me spinning
“I ASK FOR A MIGHTY HERO!” Xarxes yelled standing up, completely oblivious to my presence. Eerily, his jaw didn’t move an inch when he spoke“ONE OF THOSE LEGENDS OF MYTH THAT SCHEMING HARLOT ALWAYS BOASTS ABOUT! AND SHE SENDS ME THIS…”
His flameballs for eyes shot back at me. “This… weasel. Some scribe better suited for Aralan’s mote-filled halls.
Hastily, I nodded. This was not going the way I wanted it to go. Shit, if I had thought an eternity as an Alzheimer’s patient would be bad, what would this dude do to me? I could think of a thousand fire-related deaths right now. Could my orb/essence/soul feel pain? I wouldn’t last a second under duress!
“Your Supreme Leader…ness, If I may,” I squeaked.
His dark gaze did not lighten, but he did not raise an issue. So, I continued:
“I am not a hero… For the truth is… I run a whole world of my own!”
A very virtual world but I digress.
Given Xarxes was looking at me with the most disbelieving eyes I had ever seen, he was not convinced either.
“You?” He pointed one of his stubby, charred fingers at me.
I rotated in affirmation.
“Indeed, your magnificence. With my skills, I ruthlessly conquered entire nations! I subjugated them with my ease of might. I took from those barbarians their language and fed them what kept them satisfied but never curious. I am the dragon you need!”
His gaze grew darker.
“Did you mock me, child?” he asked softly, all the magma and flame suddenly dying down. It felt as if he had turned off the light switch. I barely kept myself from letting out a yelp of surprise. Rather than welcoming, it felt cold.
Ominous.
“N-Never, my lord.” My voice trembled as I spoke. “I.. I will do whatever you ask me to do. I swear I do have the skills.” Thank years of alternate history forums and overpowered self inserts for that. “I may not be what you had in mind, but trust me, those Greek louts were all brawn, no brain.”
The eerie silence hung again in the air as he regarded me once more with disdain. But I could see something else within those burning embers for eyes. Was that… curiosity? Begrudging curiosity without doubt, but interest in what I had to say?
Spurred on by this, I continued:
“Their civilisations crumbled, taken over by the barbarians they sought to conquer. Not even their Gods are respected anymore.” I was edging near dangerous territory here, but it was not as if Aphrodite was here protecting me. I needed to take any chance I had to push this guy into accepting me. “If you choose me to be your man… or dragon, I will serve you loyally. All I ask in return is for you to give me a chance, o’ Great One! I implore you!”
Was the fancy lingo putting him off? I could not tell.
The Fire God exhaled a smoky breath, looking defeated. I wondered if he was considering blowing me to smithereens or if my earnest plea had earned me at least a trial run.
“Very well,” he spoke in defeat. “You will find my champion. You shall be his sword, his stalwart. You will advise him and train him.” His eyes flickered with intensity. “You will build an empire to last all time.”
I fell to the ground with relief. If orbs could sigh, I sure did it.
“Thank you, my lord,” I sputtered, barely holding back a chuckle of relief. “You will not regret this!”
“You should hope not,” the Lord of the Forge said, but I could see there was no real anger in it this time. Just… weariness.
“How will I know when I’ll be sent? Who is your champion, Greatness?”
Xarxes only gave what I swore was a smile.
“That is for you to find out,” he said before a wave of flame engulfed me again, this time searing… searing….
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“You take a great risk, Master.”
At the foot of his master’s throne, Arlax found his spot around its base. He enjoyed the feel of the rough edges of the stone against his snout, and the proximity of being near his master even more. There was a distance to him today. Arlax knew what it meant whenever these dark moods came. He could scarce forget the horrors that had befallen his race then himself. Mayhap that was why he could not mask the chiding tone that coloured his speech.
“You swore to turn away from such vanities,” Arlax continued, his voice a low rumble. Smoke rose from his nostrils at the pain. Parlax, Broxus, Melyxus… He shot his head in disappointment. “They will never learn… Not from him.”
“They will,” Xarxes said grimly. “They must. For she comes, and he is not ready."
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