XVII.

Torment

Twenty-Seventh of Dectis [5], 207th Year of The Calamonian Age

The collapse of the Third Petal had sent reverberations all throughout Calamon. The Diplomats' Hall was more lively than ever before; each and every man and woman sought a place amidst the confusion—or scrounged for their lost kin. The atmosphere was no more charming nor intoxicating than a cemetery at midnight. And just as well did they cry as mourners did.

Thelani had set up a larger presence there after the atrocity—that which had taken up the name of 'the Petalfall.' They'd garnered an immense amount of support through Oelat's preaching and braying. It helped in some way that he could frame it as a direct attack against their cult, considering the circumstance. Though, that was not to say that he did not feel the weight of the tragedy; he wept with every feverish cry into his audience like a preacher of convicted faith. Like an enthused prophet.

Marisol did her best to smile as she passed. She was no kin of theirs, but had heard much from Faunia of how they had helped since the duo's arrival in Calamon. Rithi wasn't there either—the only member aside from Yvesmalia who she'd spoken to once or twice.

Instead, she continued on until a familiar white banner was just overhead: the banner which loudly decreed The Hunters in silver-painted script, and hovered over the wooden stand she'd managed to assemble a week before.

Two people were already sitting at the counter in dour conversation, in their beige plainclothes.

"Mornin' Mari." spoke a blonde younger woman like a somber whisper.

"Marisol, welcome back." greeted the dark-skinned man beside her. A man from the Inner Jinn, she understood. A land she knew little about.

"Ayla, Vim, good morning." She smiled wearily. "Thanks for running the stand before I got here. My injuries were, uh…"

She thought back to the hellish nightmare that had wracked her brain all morning—Kogar's dark eyes, the sky ripping open against his brandished might, her soul being ripped from her body and destroyed…

But it hasn't been destroyed, she reminded herself. I'm alive. I survived him. That's all that's important.

Her colleagues, anyhow, assured her that all was as well as could be, and that they valued the cause just as she did. They needed to be there, they said, or they couldn't stand the crushing anxiety of their home city.

So she smiled, and took her place before the stand as a crier. And though her voice was still coarse, she cried out with all of her strength, announcing to Calamon the pride of The Hunters.

Many came to sign up. Many came to learn of their cause—to protect Caloria from all harm, to establish order, and to wrest evil from their land until it was safe, and until the Calamoni people could live lavishly in peace as the Aeonics did. Many had learned of their cause. Many of those cultless ones, or those who were frightened by the lack of a safety net in the face of the petalfall, came to eagerly join.

And there were the donations, coin given by passing adventurers or even coin given by those signing up, that they may be procured gear and weapons to match the colors of their cause.

There was a lot of work to do for Marisol. There was a lot to set up. A lot of weight to carry.

She was explaining their cause enthusiastically to a small group when a shadow passed by her. The air felt tense suddenly, unlike it had all morning.

A familiar feeling—like a nightmare was just beginning.

She turned her head—

And Kogar placed his cool forehead to Marisol's temple, so that his lips were just beside her cheek. He spoke in a quiet, horrifyingly calm tone and said, "Tell me where Cedric Castelbre is."

"I don't know." Her voice shuddered. She glanced to the group without moving her head—but they'd already vanished. Then to Ayla and Vim, distracted by the crowd growing at the table behind her.

"You do. If you don't tell me, I'm going to do much worse than just kill you.

You were a Karian? Azar'kara… did you know I killed everyone in Azar'kara without so much as a breath? I simply walked the halls, and those feeble men and women fell without protest. Like they were ordered to. They fall in line as they fall into their graves. How convenient that you had already fled that place—and your sister… she was a Karian too…"

Marisol was frozen in horror. She couldn't move. Her knees trembled and threatened to buckle.

"Killed in a stray blast from Rykaedi. A blast meant for you—when she came to collect Cedric and Dyosius. Mmm… Miriam, was it? If you don't tell me where Castelbre is, I'll let you relive her death a thousand times, again and again until your mind can bear no more and collapses in on itself, leaving you a blank, broken slate. I will destroy you."

"Please—please, no…"

"Where did he go?"

"W-west. He went to the west… toward Kylinstrom, but I don't think he plans to go that far… I don't know, he really, he didn't tell me more than that…"

"West? Then there's only one road he could have taken, and only one speed he can move at…" Kogar leaned away, and said, "Enjoy."

Marisol's hands came and pressed her cheeks in absolute terror as her eyes suddenly filled with mortifying visions, and agonizing memories… "Wh… why?"

"Because you thought yourself worthy to touch me." he punctuated, and walked away.

Marisol let out a horrified scream. She collapsed to her knees and wailed out.

Then there was the sliding of a blade from a scabbard.

Kogar glanced back.

A swing—someone was unhappy with his public attack. Or perhaps they'd recognized him. He didn't care to listen to their gibbering as they attacked.

Kogar caught the arm as he spun. He threw the man over his head. His other hand swept across his waist…

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Without having even drawn a blade, the man above him sprayed blood as he became separated into two halves.

She's right about one thing, he thought to himself as more blades pulled free from hiding, and the Calamoni people surrounded him: Calamon is in desperate need of order.

X

"Okella, darling," Rykaedi held the girl by the cheeks and got close. She placed their foreheads together.

Okella recoiled slightly. Cold…

"The tunnel systems beneath Thelani—read the walls. Read their thoughts."

"But—"

"It's the best shot we have. Skalla has no corpse, and even then it would be harrowingly difficult to attempt to breach the mind of a cadaver. Right?"

"But you could… you could, right?" Her voice shuddered. She pulled away slightly.

Rykaedi got closer still. "I could. But there is no corpse. Those walls may very well hold the secrets that Liara left behind. All it'll take is a good girl to go down and feel them. Ask the leylines of her final thoughts, and breach that line until it bleeds. Find us the rest of that schematic."

"Y-yes, Rykaedi. But Kogar—"

"He doesn't know. He's woefully unaware of the happenings of Haketh. He's… a bit stupid, really. And so long as you-know-what is mine, he's backed into a corner. I told him: if he hurts my dear Okella, I'll throw the key away forever. He can't move."

"Okay. Okay, I understand."

"You believe me?"

"I do."

"Good."

Rykaedi patted the girl on the head and stepped back.

Haketh was quiet that morning—only Ivalié and Jirtu had come to the chamber aside from the two women, and they sat with silent glares to each other on opposite sides of the round table.

"Why all the doom and gloom?" snickered Rykaedi.

Ivalié scoffed and raised his book closer to his face.

Jirtu rolled his eyes and placed his hands atop the small black device he was designing.

"Oh—is that it, then?" the purple-gowned woman asked as she leaned her head over Jirtu's shoulder.

"Get your damn hair out of here, I can't see. And you're starting to reek of decomposure."

Rykaedi curiously lifted an arm and sniffed twice. "Isn't it a lovely smell?"

"Not even remotely."

"Ivalié?"

"Leave me out of this." he said while pushing up his spectacles.

She shrugged, then sat gracefully beside Jirtu and crossed her legs.

Okella still stood in unease. She knew her orders, but still did not know if she could fulfill them.

[Kogar will kill me if he finds out…]

Rykaedi's voice echoed in her mind: he still pursues the original Dyosius. We have free reign to construct a second without his interference.

But still—those dark eyes of Kogar were burned into Okella's hurt and stained mind. The eyes of someone who truly thought she was disgusting, useless, weak… The eyes of someone who truly hated her.

Even Rykaedi was a liar, she knew. But at least Rykaedi could pretend.

Rykaedi's thoughts were always snide after an order. After she reassured and asked for help and inspired confidence, she would think, |if only that were true. If only you really were as useful as I say.|

Tears fled Okella's eyes. She didn't want to go. Not to Calamon, not to Thelani, not toward a new Dyosius. The old one was good enough, wasn't it? [Isn't that why Kogar pursues it…?]

[Perhaps I could kill Cedric Castelbre…]

"I've done it." Jirtu proclaimed.

She jumped at the sudden noise.

The hooded man stood victoriously from his seat and held before himself a small black device. "This is it. Within that fled energy of Algirak now lives a Grivonym-esque housing."

Rykaedi leaned toward it in awe.

"It can hold the first piece of the second Dyosius. Grivorak, The First."

"Well, nobody said you were an expert at naming things…" She leaned onto her arm with a chuckle.

"The name truthfully doesn't matter, does it? But this vessel is Algirak no more, and Grivonym no more. You owe me, that damn fragment of the rending blade was hard to get. Not to mention, it saved my skin against Castelbre twice."

[Even Jirtu has faced him? And for it to have been so close… how powerful is this Castelbre?]

"Okella!" Rykaedi clapped her hands together. "What are you still doing here? Haven't you a tunnel to look for?"

"Yes, ma'am." she responded in alarm, and hurried out of the chamber.

Once outside, Okella slowed down again. It was time for her to make her own decision—wasn't it?

[Thelani. Or Castelbre. I could kill him, couldn't I? Or… should I ask Throkos for help? It was much closer last time...]

And then came the stomping of boots down the chamber.

She froze up entirely. The space expanded until the hallway felt infinite. Then cramped. Or, was it both?

Thoughts flooded her mind: [Castelbre. Death. Incineration. Serkukan. Damaged. Broken. Hunt. Blood.]

Kogar emerged from around the bend, lit by the violet flames all along the dark walls.

He was covered in blood. His two-tone armor was stained almost entirely red. His face was tired and worn, though not any less enraged.

He was passing Okella without a glance when he stopped suddenly.

Okella's heartbeat raced. She couldn't move. Her legs wobbled.

"Okella… you're not thinking about hunting Castelbre, are you?"

"N-no." she lied. [How did he…?]

"That's the wonder of my new power. That's the miracle that is Redirection; it creates powers just as I need them."

Then came a new voice in her mind, that caused her whole world to spin:

×I CAN READ EVERY THOUGHT YOU'VE EVER HAD.×

And Okella wept as he continued on, into the chamber...

*