Sunlight sears my eyes and caresses my dark skin.
Beyond the orange morning sun, paths wind through green hills and tall forests. I walk behind two men with the objective to conquer.
Handpicked for our might. The three of us kill whatever necessary.
That’s the theory.
I skip ahead to be on equal footing with the knight. The grey armor dons a pale young man with jet black hair and grey pale blue eyes, like paint losing its vibrancy. He gives a meek smile. It’s still difficult for me to imagine Anite as a warrior.
‘My friends, we have nearly arrived at the heathen god’s lair.’ Says Allister. A sturdy bald man with a tendency to talk. His powerful voice reverberates forcefully, even outside. It must be an effect of the endless practices with the choir. ‘This foul beast is at the peak of its existence, trying to transcend its stature to the heights of our beautiful Gloria. Like a weed it must be culled, lest it spoil the crop. Dear Brynn, you must agree. There can only be three Gods.’
‘Yeah, yeah, very dead. Bloody bastard. How dare he.’ I say, daring to be agreeable, hoping he’ll keep moving.
Both me and Anite give a start as the big man turns around to give a warm smile, grabbing Anite firmly by the shoulders. The knight’s eyes widen with terror at this brazen act.
‘I’ve been entrusted with you two.’ Allister says, suddenly calm and reassuring. A hint of inspirational monologue rests upon his tongue, almost tangible. ‘King puts his word on it, that you are the finest, for as far as the empire reaches. Achievements like no other. It’s only natural to be awry of other people, especially if you do not know to measure their mettle. I swear on Gloria her beauty, you can count on me to support you when you fight. Have faith as I have in you both.’
‘Blessed be the great trinity.’ Says Anite, monotonous and absent minded. A broken smile accentuates his mad fixed gaze on the bald man’s hand whilst impatient fingers rap away at the pommel of a blade, intent on removal.
‘Oh, sorry lad.’ The bald priest says as he lets go of the pale knight. ‘It’s a bad habit of mine, I get overly familiar.’ He steps back and I can see the honest regret on his face as he turns to face the road ahead.
I can’t believe this.
These strange people.
Honest to a fault.
We’ll not get along one bit.
---
‘Gloria’s fucking bum on a stick, that’s the worst moment to have a vision. I’m fucking running! What even triggered it!’
‘What. Are. You. Saying. Huff, huff, huff.’
The two rat girls still run to make their way for the stairs. They can see them in the distance. The stone stairway scales nearly the entire wall surrounding the underground town. In fact, they’re nearly there. Brynn peeks over her shoulder to confirm Amethyst is still jogging along, albeit a little out of breath.
Strangely enough, this area isn’t as crowded as the rest of town. Nobody is actually here. Seemingly the battle is drawn onto the main pathways that lead into town, just to converge into a great melee upon the supposed town square.
All the better.
With each step away from the battle, the stink of blood and piss interferes less with her nose. And each step towards the steps she grows more certain Anite was here. Ugh, the vision makes her less excited about this. Absence truly makes the heart grow fonder as she only now remembers how gloomy he gets. He’ll probably whine after they save him.
Once there, Amethyst shakes, shouts, and refuses to walk up the stairs. She is quite certain a drop from that height is entirely fatal. Brynn doesn’t argue her on that and decides to drag the anxious girl all the way. Some seemingly dangerous situations cause Amethyst to sound the first curse words Brynn ever heard exit her pretty mouth. In the end, Amethyst gives up and convinces the angry archer she can walk by herself.
They make it up the stairs and find a small cavern that leads some ways into the wall. Like a tiny tunnel it takes them all the way to what seems to be an old, broken prison. Stone bars appear broken and spread about the tunnel. As if an explosion happened from beyond the stone bars. Amethyst squeaks as she sees the skeletons of ratmen behind the wrecked bars.
‘Well,’ Amethyst starts, whimpering at the dead bodies around her. ‘at least the decay is progressed to far for it to be Anite.’
‘Or he was eaten, stripped to the bone.’
Amethyst throws up as Brynn makes her way back. She has this vague idea that, even if the shitty knight isn’t here, she can still use the height to her advantage.
Once out of the tunnel, standing on top of the stairs, she takes a good look at the city below. The stairs make for a wonderful vantagepoint. Scanning the town, she cannot make out one single grey furred rat. What she does see, is a large snake carcass filling up an entire side street. See also sees the full scope of what seems to her like a tribal war. Sighing, she takes out her bow and lets it grow larger in her hand.
What she sees as well, is Bart, frantically running about the battlefield.
The poor rat is just dashing in a straight line and doesn’t even notice the several elite looking warriors who are picking him out of the crowd with ease, ready to clobber him into a pulp. His magical armor, emitting the obscuring smoke, is a wonderful set. Perfect for covert work within the dark, where the shadows envelop you whole. Out in the open however, it becomes a bit flashy. Five big, bulky lizards seem to agree with her and approach him from all sides.
She lets the bow grow to nearly her entire height. She takes an arrow and takes aim.
‘Swallow.’
The string rings loud as it is released. The arrow soars like a black bird, and in the distance, she can see a lizard’s head turn to nothing. Let’s do that again.
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‘Swallow, swallow, swallow, swallow.’
The four arrows fly through the air with incredible speed, propelled by dark shadowy wings that beat the air violently. She grins as her emerald eye follows the arrows.
She notices now that the lizards are overall running out of their bulky warriors. This doesn’t seem to be going their way. Maybe she is overstepping by interfering. Wouldn't want to unbalance the native species.
A faint spell overcomes her, and she wobbles on her feet. Her vision blurs slightly and once it settles again she takes a peek down the steep drop beyond the stairwell.
‘Oof, guess I used little much magic there all at once.’ The archer sits down at the edge and lets her legs hang. ‘It’s an interesting battle though, this one. Both sides seem to have some strategic insight.’
‘What are you doing?’ Asks Amethyst, appearing from the tunnel, distressed and worked up. Brynn looks at her and is distracted by the yellow stains on the chest plate of Amethyst her armor. She giggles.
‘I’m taking a lil break.’
The anxious red girl stares at her with wide eyes, then looks at the tunnel, then looks back at Brynn. She scoffs in disbelief and mutters some incredulous sounds.
‘You are taking a break?? I can’t believe you Brynn. You’re taking a break?? We are looking for our friend. I can’t believe it, Brynn. I have been taking your side for long enough, sticking up for you on each occasion, even if you were behaving questionably. In fact, Bryn, you’ve just been an absolute mess for the last days. Running, shouting, throwing tantrums, and now you take a break? Now?!?!’ The little rat is absolutely fuming, breathing heavily as she keeps her little fists balled on her side. ‘We should be looking there! For Anite.’ The little rat points angrily over the edge at the city. For a second she looks ahead, then she looks down onto the city below. The little rat falls down to the ground next to Brynn.
Tentatively, Brynn takes a close look at Amethyst, moving an eyelid with a finger. The little rat is passed out. Brynn shakes her head and continues to watch the small-scale war unfolding in front of her.
‘Really, Amethyst? Taking a nap? At a time like this?’
She giggles and swings her feet back and forth through the air.
---
Xass bursts onto the plaza. A strong smell of feces hangs in the air like a thick balm. The sounds of anger and fear resonate. He doesn’t know where from. Right now, he still has tunnel vision.
His sword swings and strikes at a rabid looking rat, causing it to jump back. Although their earlier strategy had been impressive, he can’t shake the feeling of wrongness when he looks at them. Most of the ratmen are close to mangled. Their brown furs missing in patches on their bent backs. Their teeth broken or curved in a funny way within snarling snouts. And eyes of ill-looking yellows and reds.
Behind him follows the battalion, ready to repel the mangy beasts, steady and methodic in their advance. Since regrouping, they move forward uncontested, managing to keep all fifteen soldiers alive.
Now the battle will change. The narrow street becomes a wide area where the earlier formation is of no use.
‘Hold the exit!’ Xass shouts, and the soldiers understand what he means. They set themselves up in a half circle around the entrance to the street from the plaza, creating a dent of sorts into the wide battlefield. They will change this city into a death trap.
Tentative brown rats stand around them, observing what the Lizardmen will do. But the Lizardmen don’t do anything. For now, they just wait, catching their breath, killing any rat foolish enough to try and breach their defenses.
Xass takes a breath too and takes in the sight while he’s at it. He can see that one of the other two main streets is defended in a similar fashion. What happened to the third company is a mystery and a problem. It compromises the general objective. If just five or so rats escape, they may have a similar situation at hand in a few weeks. They'll never reach back home at that rate. The labyrinth can lead them on a wild hunt for months on end.
He considers rallying a force as he glances over the battlefield but realizes the futility. The mobility of the rats takes them easily over the ceilings into the streets in the back. Hell, behind them there might be a force of fifty rats escaping. Just like that. His heart sinks as their operation seems to end before it is even begun. They have made a serious lapse in judgement.
He shakes it off. And focuses on the battlefield before him. This he can control.
As he thinks this his eyes widen in disbelief.
He starts laughing.
The answer is coming at him, right in front of him, running eagerly. If he can't save the mission, he can still focus on furthering himself. For him it was never about the savage rats to begin with. His cheeks burn from grinning as he there is still his personal goal.
And it's running right at him.
A ratman with jet black fur runs towards him from the distance on the right. Strikingly different within the crowd of crooked, deformed rats. The black rat wears a helmet and full armor, emitting an ominous black smoke which obscures its features. Even without this Xass can see it is strongly different than the other ratmen. Its eyes are clear. Its fur seems like it shines. It strides forward with a straight posture, in a crude imitation of Lizardmen.
The labyrinth is conspiring with him to realize his full potential.
He will return home a hero of his era.
He will kill a highrat.
He takes a step forward, lifting his blade to intercept the warrior, but the grin is wiped from his face. He can see several drakes, five maybe, who have spotted the warrior and are taking strides to kill this superior prey. The drakes, like the chief, Bronq and Phath, are the elite of the Lizardman army. These ultimate soldiers are witnessed by Ragon, filled with strength and destructive might, unmatched by most creatures in the labyrinth.
Xass lowers his sword, disappointed to see his dreams whisked away right from under his snout. The drakes home in on the running rat, who pays them no mind. Time seems to slow down, as he sees one of the drakes hold in place suddenly, and fall to the ground. What happened? He sees another shape drop forward out of nowhere. His heart starts racing again. He has to pay attention. He sees all three drakes now and catches the moment as one of their head explodes into gore, leaving nothing on its shoulder as it drops lifelessly to the ground.
The lone ratman steps ever forward.
Another head explodes out of nowhere.
Another step.
Another step.
The last of the drakes explodes into chunks of flesh and bone, not too far from him. It collapses on the floor with a loud thud. The lizardman army is noticing the change. Disbelief covers their faces and they start to get pushed around by the rats.
He rises his blade again as the foe creeps ever closer.
Confusion is taking hold of the Lizardman army. He has to stop it. No one is left. He reaches into the magical energy, grasping strongly at the core of his being. The heat builds and throbs from within his throat. Fire. Fire. Fire. His mind I focused on this one thing. Set him the fuck on fire!
A giant ball of flame leaves his jaws, flying straight forward at the enemy, obscuring the ratknight through its raw size.
Then the fireball dissipates. Seemingly cut in half.
The ratman jumps through, sword drawn, pointed at him with blatant, amateurish intent.
Xass manages a as he prepares to parry the thrust.
He sees the dark black eyes beyond the charcoal mist. He manages to see the scene, but he can’t move in time. The magic has drained him.
He sees the blade strike towards him, too fast.
'Move, please.' Says the rat.
'Huh?'
He has no time to think as a metallic sound reverberates when the blade hits him. All the air leaves his body as the young prince spits up bile and flies through the air for seconds on end until he crashes into one of the building walls, destroying the infrastructure, lodging him between rubble.
His ears ring as he lifts blurry heavy objects off his legs.
He coughs up blood and gasps for air. Swinging his limbs around, trying to get a hold of something, anything as slowly his vision comes back to him.
What happened?
Where am I?
He looks around and is overcome with a sharp pain in the head. The whole scene blurs.
His visions swirls around him until it settles in place.
He struggles to get onto his knees and lets the memory flow back into his mind. He got stabbed in the chest. Then he hit something hard. He looks at his chest and sees the golden threats of his tunic, all swirling in front of his heart, dense like a shield.
He tries to step out of the rubble, but a sharp pain runs through his legs, and he falls forward onto the ground, face in the dust. Coughing, he gets back on his knees, looks forward, and sees the shadows stride towards him. A blade appears. Wet pressure wells up behind his eyes.
It’s a demon.
He wails in front of true might.
Ragon please, don't let me die.