I recognized this place. A ridiculous notion within the monotonous gray tunnels that made up my world. The serpentine ways would rise and fall in an eternal twist of vines and stone, the occasional beast or monster to disturb its oppressive peace. It was a natural maze, grown in a manner to distort perception, the indistinguishable shades flowed seamlessly, and every single tunnel had a roughly identical circumference. However, if you had lived in these tunnels, grew up between the stones, the curvature of a path could speak to you, a pattern of vines might make you reminisce, and the edgings and wear of camping would shout in your mind.
I was certain I’d been there before.
What I didn’t recognize were these boys. Two young looking ratmen faced us, eyes wide with shock. Both of them were black furred, but one had white fur around his pink hands and feet, making it seem like he wore little gloves and shoes. The other bore a white, heart shaped crest on his chest. They wore no clothes, but they both held spears made of stone, and the boy with the crest carried a small pouch slung around his shoulder.
When they stumbled upon us, they halted in surprise, seemingly unsure what to make of us. Although I was surprised as well, it didn’t seem to me like they wanted to harm me, so I refrained from breaking them apart. Besides, they appeared different from the ratmen I had met on my travels. They lacked the characteristic signs of deterioration, all the hairs on the right places, teeth intact, no limbs replaced with mechanically moving ivory counterparts. No, they almost seemed… like me, but much younger.
They regarded me in similar fashion, until Gharava stepped into view.
‘Anite legs grow too long. Must break apart next big rat so can make big legs also.’
‘Freaks!’ The little rat with the heart crest squealed. ‘Abominations, the both of them. We must kill them, Bert!’
‘You’re right, Bort. They’re frighteningly disgusting, especially the malformed giant. We must guard the castle against them.’
In all honesty, I was a bit offended.
Wait, they could talk?
The first spear bearer was upon me within a second. He astounded me with his speed. White little gloves spun the stone haft around to swing a pointy tip at my neck, aiming to rip it open in one swift motion. The little boy was swinging the heavy stone weapon with ease and precision, and any other ratman would already be dead, maybe they could even challenge Ira. But not me.
I caught the spear in my hand and grinned at him. He tried to pull free, to no avail.
‘That looks like an imperial spear style. How’d you learn that?’ I said, gleaming at the young rat, seeing his distress before something blurred in the corner of my eye, and I leaned back for a stone knife to cut the air in front of my face. I swung the spear to the side, sweeping the boy off his little white feet, in time to evade the next spear stabbing at my chest. ‘I’m confused, were the two of you always here? My memories are a bit hazy.’
‘Silence, monster!’ The white crested kid said.
‘Me? A monster? You’ve yet to see the monster.’
‘Your words mean nothing to me!’ Screamed the boy in between his wild swings. He was getting incredibly winded by chasing me around. It must’ve been excruciating, since I managed to jump into his blind spot with every leap. He struck me as exceptionally skilled, so he must not be used to being defied in this manner. His eyes spoke of an expectancy to receive help, and doubt drew his energy even further. What had happened to his friend with the gloves?
I sweeped my leg in a wide low kick, tripping him up to fall flat on the ground, right in front of his friend. Horror drew over his round features when he saw the rat corpses latched onto his friend, tying him to the ground in bloody squirming chains. The boy screamed in terror, and tried to get up to save him, but I’d grabbed his spear and now jammed the dull end into his back, pinning him tightly to the floor, immobilizing him, forced to listen to Gharava’s mad cackle.
‘Well then, I think you know where my castle is.’
---
We chaperoned the two young rats through the tunnels. Little Heart Shaped Crest was overcome with relief that his friend, Mittens, was in fact not dead. Gharava’s little troopers had swarmed the boy, and tied him to the floor like undead chains. Little heart crest was now sobbing with joy as we shoved them forwards, their pawpaws bound by skeletal shackles, tattered to a teetering Gharava.
I was filing my teeth on a piece of petrified wood when a beetle flew by. I grabbed it out of the air and felt it crunch wetly between my jaws.
‘I wonder how everyone is doing. Hey you kids, is everyone still at the castle these days? It’s been a while.’
‘Where not talking to you, you monster.’
‘Whatever. Be that way… Your names were Bert and Bort, if I heard correctly. And you’re patrolling these tunnels like guards. That has King’s naming scheme all over it. I can’t believe he’d make more of us. I wonder how he did it.’
‘Take King’s name out of your filthy mouth, you savage.’
‘You have quite a mouth on you too, mind you. Don’t you think so, Gharava?’
‘Yes, much mouth on face. And know not how to speak good, like you!’
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‘Anyway, I can’t call you Bert and Bort. It feels wrong. Besides, I can’t keep you two apart like that. Much too confusing. So from now on I’ll call you Crest and you Mittens.’
‘You’ll suffer for your transgressions against the empire.’ Squealed Mittens. I knew this was going to be the most fun.
It delighted me how coherent this conversation was. No slight meant towards Gharava, but sometimes he instilled the notion that he was far from sane. Whenever a nightmare awoke me, I always found my mangled friend staring intently at me. Other times I would mistakenly assume that he was talking to himself, but realize at closer inspection that the conversation was held with one of the small rat corpses.
Nevertheless, he was a great individual, and the lessons he provided within the domain of magic were both effective as intuitive. It appeared that what I had considered to be earth manipulation, as King had eloquently put it, was closer to magic practice. This practice functioned as a way to increase your affinity to a certain school of the arcane, and prepared your soul to interact with the soul of the world, as Gharava named it. To use actual magic, you had to invest your soul into words. These words would then carry on to perform the actions, as long as the words held the proper meaning or symbolism. Similarly, one had to conjure an image while speaking the words. The image would only be shaped into reality if one accounted for that. If not… well that resulted in a pain I was familiar with.
Within a few short hours it had become night, and the pleasant conversations had carried us to an ominous gate. It resembled the entrance to a jail cell, immaculately designed. The stone bars met horizontal reinforcements at equal intervals, and along its left a stile seemed affixed to three hinges, clearly defining this as a door of sorts within its frame. With my strong rat arms I was able to grab the bars and rattle it, but there seemed to be no chance of breaking these stone cylinders, reinforcing within me that King was still here, and he had not been sitting still.
It reminded me that for the majority of my life, I had not lived in this makeshift palace, and in my absence it had grown more humane. The gate was, as I’d said, ominous, out of place in this network of tunnels filled with savage subhuman creatures. Softly, I let my claws touch the intricate lock, welted within the right side of the door. Due to King’s magic there was not a single seam. It was beautiful.
My heart throbbed.
I was home.
The residents of my home, however, did not seem to share the sentiment. The black rats popped up at the gates like pests, three more unfamiliar faces, likely drawn by our peculiar smell. Who am I kidding? They were drawn by Gharava’s deadly musk.
‘Halt strangers!’ They said, their voices squealing highly pitched like the young children would sound if they spoke to imitate the conversations of their parents. Honestly, why did King give weapons to these toddlers?
‘Bart, they’ve captured us!’ Said Mittens. ‘They are bad people, you can’t let them in.’
‘But what will happen to you if we do?’ The other rats shouted back.
‘We will perish, but if it's for the good of the kingdom, we’ll gladly make the sacrifice.’
Bart, they said, but this boy was not Bart. Not at all. They didn’t even look like him, hell, they were half my size. I wasn’t even sure which of these three boys was supposed to be Bart. King truly had a cruel streak when it came to names.
‘Report to King,’ I said, ‘that Anite has come home.’
‘Quiet you filthy giant, do not speak his name in vain.’ Said Mittens, and I slammed his face into the stone bars so hard I heard something break, and it was not the bars. I regretted it immediately. Seeing his face all scrunched made me really sad. On Mitten's face, tears began to stream, blending with the blood flowing from his nose and mouth. It’d happened before I realized it, I only felt the need to discipline the child… Well, he wouldn’t be speaking out of turn again. I let go of the scruff of his neck and the boy crumbled limb onto the floor.
‘If you tell King about me, I promise I won’t hurt them anymore.’
I cast my eyes down on who might be Bart. He held my gaze for a few seconds, and diverted his eyes shamefully before running away with his friends. For the love of Ashe, children were such a burden…
With a swing of my arm, the stone around the right side of the gate opened up into a hole, large enough for a man of my stature to stroll down the hallway beyond. Gharava cackled in amusement as he followed me through to the other side of the gate, into the castle I’d promised to show to him.
‘Champion of Death indeed.’ He growled.
‘Will you two come inside as well?’ I asked the little rats, but Crest just stared at us in a startled manner and gave no response as the dead rats that made up their restraints fell away to follow us inside. ‘As you like.’
With another swing of my arm the stone wall filled up the newly formed hole, and gripped itself around the gate. I’d have to apologize to King for the crude appearance this created, but dire times call for dire measures. Surely, he could easily restore it to its original state.
We walked down the hallway. It seemed to have grown much larger in size and height, but mostly it was as I remembered it. The swirly whirlies edged into the walls filled me with nostalgia, as did the looming entrances that led to everyone’s private quarters. I couldn’t wait to see everyone. I’ve missed them so much, and although I had Gharava, I’ve felt so very alone, for so very long. It’s as though a weight has started to slide from my shoulder, like a noose loosening.
I found myself standing before a specific entrance. This was my home. When I’d enter here, I’d find my bed. I’d lay down in it, grab mother’s fur tightly around me and forget all about this nasty nightmare. I’d forget about the loneliness. I’d forget about Gharava’s manic laughter and lessons. I’d forget about Ashe, and my love for her. I’d wake up a regular ratman, with no notion of humanity, and I’d smile, happy to spend my day with my family. Just another day. What did it mean for me to be the greatest knight to ever live if there was noone to share my stories with?
I realized that Gharava was nowhere to be found. Had he wandered off? Where could he have gone, the crazy rat? Hopefully, nothing happens to him in the meantime.
I entered my room. It was exactly as I’d left it. The light stone shone its dimmed light from the lamp on the ceiling. The small desk still sat uselessly in the corner. My bed beckoned me. When I drew closer, I noticed there was already someone in there, a young girl with a white mark around her head in the shape of a rose crown. She slowly opened her eyes and was startled to see me. She sat up and crawled slightly back, her eyes wide, and after a second or two, her lower lip curled up and a tear rolled down her cheek.
‘Is it really you? Are you home?’ She asked.
‘I think I am.’
The girl swallowed her tears and grit her teeth through whatever emotion she was experiencing, before getting up and running out of the room.
Oh no, I thought as she left through the hole. I creeped up to some sleeping girl. That’s not proper… and she wasn’t wearing any clothes. I fell backwards on the bed, feeling her warmth still in the fur. Unable to relax yet, I sat back up and rubbed my eyes. Where was everyone?
The next moment the three little soldiers appeared at the entrance. The girl must’ve told them I was here.
‘King will see you now, you savage. You are lucky he’s such a righteous sovereign.’ Said potentially Bart before they all stepped out of sight again.
I suppose I should follow them, King was still here and he could tell me where my friends were.
Instead I sat there, at least for a little while. I looked around this room and wondered if this was still my home.