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“And the warmachine goes boom, boom, boom!” the Earther fool exclaimed.
Idrus rested his chin on the palm of his hand. Though it was better to allow his scales to cover most of his face as well, he forfeited that protection from the suns so that he might get a better view of the performance.
The open craft hummed along. Three bodyguards walked on the right of him, three more to the left, but Idrus, riding in the hover carriage, kept his eyes on this frail Earther who was nearly baking in the heat.
This fool was one of the few Earthers left over from the wars.
It seemed hard to believe that only four cycles had passed since Idrus awoke alone in the wild. Abandoned and forgotten. Four cycles had come and gone since he’d walked into those caves as Indel and feasted upon his every desire and whim until he was physically sated.
He glanced behind him at the army of Levelers, still too young to leave the first stage, but fit to fight. More than half were his breed. He’d come out of those caves forever changed. No craving for nectar, but hungry for a fight.
As king he was known by a new name in each of his three forms. Stage one: Idrus, Stage two: Idsel, and Stage three: Indel. Before the battles, before the fights, before that Summoner, Idrus took on the second stage as Idsel. As that stage was less intimidating and more favorable to Earther eyes, it was the preferred stage with which to conduct talks.
The time of talks had come and gone. Now he couldn’t stand the thought of remaining in that stage for long. Other than potentially dealing with Summoners, he saw no reason why he’d need it anymore.
Summoners had vanished.
Dilen’s clan was the first to fall. It was then that Levelers had discovered the terpins. Small animals, unstable in their third stage and highly combustible, but easily harvested. They’d lined the nectar in small doses for years because although they could be deadly, they were incredibly sweet.
Most Levelers from that time had perished in the first fight. Idrus found that fortunate, as most could barely stand an existence without that gentle humming in the back of their throats from the sweet drink.
The fool perspired. Idrus reminded himself that it was brought on by the heat or perhaps fear, and not a show of disrespect.
In the distance, he spied a hillside and as always, he watched it till it was nearly out of sight. This slow route was one he’d traveled each and every cycle. It was laborious, long, unmanageable, and out of the way. It was also the only place he remembered of the Summoner who had thrown him away.
Days came and went when he remembered it differently. After the first cycle passed, he convinced himself that the Summoner had risked much by taking him so close to the caves so that he’d be seen. A Summoner without a tail venturing near unruly Levelers with no king seemed impossible.
Sometimes he imagined that Summoner looming over him, touching their foreheads, whispering sweet assurances and maybe an apology for having to part ways.
Whenever this season arrived, he built on that memory, making it into something far more than it ever was. Now when he’d thought of it, they shared an embrace and maybe a promise to keep safe. He’d lost his head by asking Nala to remain and that Summoner had lied and said she’d wished to do the same. They’d tumbled together in the dirt, Nala taking him into her mouth for a final time before someone’s approach forced her to stop. In the latest daydream, memories of that severed tail and a fear for what danger it might bring forced them to part.
Idrus scoffed at the foolishness.
Still, he’d instructed the new Viceroy to leave this land undisturbed, for all the good it did.
Other times he felt unexplained rage. So much so that if Summoners were still about, he feared what he might do.
Now with the Earthers driven back, this might be the time to usher in new peace with the Summoners. Idrus should have met with them in his second stage and sought out a comfort coupling from one of their females, maybe even their queen. Females with intact tails.
Maybe he should have sought out Nala.
The very name put Idrus in distress. Nala’s kindness and strength had changed Idrus’s entire world. As did her cruelty in not allowing him a proper goodbye.
The hillside had all but faded from view.
Maybe Nala hadn’t survived the conflicts. Earthers were caught off guard in the attacks; none had expected it. Without Earther food and protection, many Summoners perished. No doubt Nala did, too.
No. He wouldn’t seek out Nala. There would be no point in looking for something he feared finding.
“Get your damn hands off me, you bastard. Get your damn hands off me. Those are mine. Those are my fucking specimens. Don’t you dare touch them!”
The caravan ground to a halt. Idrus sat up, his cumbersome body heavy from the extended period of dormancy.
An elderly Earther was arguing somewhere close by. Getting loud was common for Earthers so Idrus resolved to ignore it.
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Idrus raised his claws, intent on instructing the fool to carry on with the silly story.
“Get your hands off me! We’re traveling unarmed. Don’t you see that? We don’t have anything.”
A soft groan in the back of his throat, Idrus sat up and let out a screech.
The Levelers with the Earther screeched back, indicating their location and the trouble. Idrus turned to his right. The red faced Earther looked familiar, though it was often hard to tell as Earthers took on their years rather fast. It made no sense wasting time with him, however, as Idrus would have to change to at least the second stage to speak in the Earthman’s tongue without struggling. He refused to do so now.
His teeth chattering, Idrus instructed the Levelers to let the Earther go. Nearly all Earthers had fled two cycles ago. The final batch would be gone by the end of the season.
The series of clicks that came back in response drew Idrus’ focus. Summoners. The Earther had Summoners.
Idrus raised his left hand and all Levelers fell silent.
“Those are mine, those are mine,” the Earther went on.
Smith. The old Earther’s name was Smith.
Idrus jumped from the hovering craft, his cumbersome scales shrinking down until he was Idsel. There would be no going back to the first stage from the second; he’d have to complete the cycle, but he didn’t mind. They’d arrive at the mating caves soon.
“Earther. All Summoners have taken to hiding. Where have you found Summoners?” Idsel asked.
As Idsel neared, he smiled at the sight of the sloth. What lay atop the animal made his blood run cold. Parts. Summoner parts, all tied up neatly on its back.
Idsel froze dead in his tracks. He counted each appendage again and again. At least two full-grown Summoners; female, in their second stages.
He hurried around to the other side of the animal, expecting to see the heads.
Nothing.
Other than some useless minerals and sacks of food, the Earther had nothing else.
Idsel reached out without thinking. He meant to cut the parts free.
Excited chatter from other Levelers reminded him of his action. They’d agreed to allow Earthers to leave. Smith had the right of passage as he appeared harmless.
There was nothing harmless about what he carried. Smith’s leathery skin, creased and worn with age, meant he’d only last another cycle, but not two. What the Earther carried was troubling, but as their life expectancy was only about eight cycles, he’d at least be dead soon enough.
When Idsel quieted, the Earther collected the reins of his sloth and walked on in the heat. The last Idsel saw of him were two blue tails, cut clean and brushed, no doubt taken as charms.
The day was hot and others began to fidget under the suns. Idsel stared out at the hillside for some time until he began to walk. The Levelers at his back shifted with him.
Sometime later, Idsel found the broken-down structure he recognized to be a barn. The fields lay in ruin, the building barely held on its hinges.
There was no one there. The sight of the burial mound made his hearts miss their rhythm, especially when he saw the marking of the Earther cross.
“Oh Nala, you fool. Why didn’t you find shelter? Or go back underground like the stories always said.”
He needed a moment to slow his breathing. Now looking at that cross, he wished he hadn’t come. Before, the memories would have kept. Now he had to imagine that a war he initiated stopped all trade for Nala. It interrupted the livelihood of weak Summoners. And after the Earthers left, who was to know what Levelers would do to the Earther sympathizers who remained.
By the barn door, a large container stood. On the side, the words, “Betty’s food” were crudely etched out.
A ghost of a smile peeked through Idsel’s sorrow.
In time that smile faded when he imagined Nala living off that food instead; it might have been easier to get when trades stopped.
Idsel hated the thought, even more so because this wasn’t how a Leveler King should behave. He should order the barn knocked down. If he was still in his first stage, he could easily tear through it himself in its current dilapidated state.
Intent on giving the Summoner a proper place of rest, Idsel ordered the grave dug up. Graves were an Earther thought. Although he wanted to respect Nala’s wishes, in this one little thing, he wanted to honor her properly as well—what Summoners had once known to be proper. He ignored the fighters who came to tell him the night would come and they were best to move. He ignored as stage one Levelers fell to their hands and knees to dig up the body. And he ignored the feeling as if he was crumbling from within.
The memories had been good enough. He’d been greedy to seek out more. Gluttony was an Earther folly. Even now that the Earthers had gone, they’d left far more damage behind than they’d ever know—or care.
With plush trees as far as the eye could see, it would be a waste to not use one as a marking point.
No sooner had they dug up what appeared to be a sloth corpse that he heard the commotion. They’d dug up a structure as well. At this distance, it was hard to tell the shape. Two Levelers reached into the hole and dragged something out. A pale figure slipped from the Leveler’s grip in a scramble to escape.
It fell at Idsel’s feet. The creature was so slim he half mistook it for a puppet of some kind. Whatever it was, it was covered in the coarse fabric of a gunny sack.
Idsel crouched down, taking the thing by the dull, gray hair.
Pale blue eyes stared back at him.
The face was slender, its breathing ragged, but those frightened eyes were unmistakable.
Nala.
The figure leapt up, darting past. A moment later the barn door swung shut.
Several Levelers stepped forward to give chase but Idsel held up his hand.
A Summoner in her third stage.
Idsel stared at the door wondering about his best course of action. Life would be easier for them all with Summoners coming out of hiding once more.
As Idsel, he still had an exoskeleton—though not as prominent. He took off what remained of his head covering.
After he gave the orders for everyone to return to the caravan, he watched their retreat. They wouldn’t go far, but a Leveler army was an unwelcoming sight.
Summoners would be helpful rebuilding their world. Idsel’s duty to his people dictated that he bust down that door and demand answers as to their whereabouts. That was the way of the fist Leveler King, and the second and even the third. A bond was necessary, in the long run. They would all need it, Leveler and Summoner alike.
Today, however, he was only concerned with the one Summoner shut up in the barn.
As the suns set and night came, Idsel waited. When Leveler after Leveler approached and warned of the dangers of the night for many of the mating Levelers, Idsel still waited. He waited so long that he nearly forgot that he could move.
Finally, he stood and approached the barn. The door wouldn’t budge. Idsel could easily break it down. He would have done as much four cycles ago.
Instead, he closed his eyes and exhaled.
Scales flaked and cascaded from his body. In the morning he would have to risk traveling uncovered. That was tomorrow and he only cared about today.
No.
He didn’t kick at the door.
He didn’t break through.
He had no more demands.
Once more in his third stage, Indel was gentle as he knocked.
End