Our newest captors raise and tighten the ropes under our boat, holding our ship wobbling between the bridges. Percival, Natalia, and Lina, awakened by the commotion, join the rest of the crew on deck with a fright. Percival mutters a quick prayer of protection, while Lina runs to her father with terror as she peers at the enormous reptilian shadows.
"Daddy, what's going on? What's happening to the boat?"
"I don't know, Lina, just go stay with Natalia. Get into the storerooms, immediately," orders Connor, finally sounding like a parent. Lina rushes over to Natalia and hugs her tighter than a serpent, but she refuses to go below deck.
"I won't leave, Daddy! What if the island does something to you?"
"It will be fine, Lina, don't worry. I'm sure we can be reasonable with these beings."
A quiver escapes Connor's lips on the last word as the boom of footsteps erupts from the trees. The hydra-shaped beings draw closer to our vessel, their hoarse breathing slithering through the air to our ears, until the first of the creatures stomps from its shadowy keep and reveals itself. We peer upward with horror... and then confusion, when our eyes continue to see nothing but trees, even though the shadow is now gone.
"Wh-where did they go?" asks Connor, still jittery. Suddenly, Lina smiles and points to the ground below the towering trees.
"Look! They're right there," she says with a chuckle.
We follow her finger and look toward the ground, and the entire crew feels very silly. While the islanders certainly have heads of a hydra, ranging from two to eight heads each, to compare them to such a legend would be quite the overstatement; our captors are no more than three feet tall, with ripped tunics and dented armor as clothing and a permanent scowl painted across each of their fangs as they take a defensive position with jagged spears and curved, rusted swords. Gene, Connor, and I stare dumbfounded, then Connor simply bursts into laughter, causing the " mini-dragons' " grips on their weapons to tighten.
"Th-these are the warriors known for savage battles?!" Connor cackles. "Gladiators who cut their foes into bits? Preposterous! Three of them weigh one of us; what could these dwarves possibly do in combat?"
Connor quickly receives his answer as a dagger whizzes by his ear... from behind. A nervous smile sticks to his mouth as we turn around and realize we are surrounded, with soldiers beginning to walk along the bridges with dastardly smiles.
"You just had to say it, didn't you?" I scowl.
"Battle stations!" shouts Gene, grabbing his sword from his side. The other soldiers rush to grab their own armaments from their rooms and return to deck without a hint of armor. I grab my own dagger from my scabbard, but it's clear this is duel is not in our favor.
The soldiers aim their weaponry at the islanders, who are now actively invading the boat, balancing on the thick ropes, and leaping on from both sides of the ship. The bullets whoosh by our assailants, leaving most unscathed or with a small scratch on their arms and legs that does nothing but make them angrier. Percival tries to push Natalia and Lina to safety below deck but are stopped by two of the enemy soldiers jumping on and blocking the door. Their heads begin hissing wildly as they push the trio into the center of the deck.
"Lina, no!" Connor screams. He grabs Gene's gun and aims at the soldiers, but the gun is ripped away from him by a scaled whip, similar to a smaller version of the large ropes holding our boat in place, and pulled toward a 'mini-dragon' with a shining golden body, and nine heads, each a different color of the rainbow. Their brilliant scales and regal posture make it clear they are the leader, yet they are arguably the shortest of the group.
The golden hydra raises their hand to halt their soldiers, and in an instant the invasion pauses. Connor's soldiers turn their guns toward the golden one as the hydra effortlessly jump from the bridge to our starboard side to the center of the deck, right next to the three of us, without crossing the ropes; the soldiers don't shoot, for fear of their utterly atrocious aim ending the King's life instead. The hydra's heads dart around inquisitively, studying each of their opponents on the boat. Eight of the heads then turn to me, Gene, and Connor, and begin growling and chattering angrily in their native language.
"Couldn't pick any word better than dwarf, could you?" I groan at Connor.
"We have no time for blame, Orenson, just get us out of here," Connor orders.
"How is it you always want me to fix your shit, then berate me afterwards as if I've done nothing?"
"Oh, don't be so dramatic-"
Connor's rebuttal is cut short by the snap of the golden hydra's whip on his face, knocking him flat on his back. Lina tries to break Natalia's grasp to run to his aid, but she does not budge. The golden hydra steps closer, and the ninth head, a deep, brilliant red color, and the only one of the heads not to chitter at the beginning, raises above the rest and meets me and Gene at eye level.
"You are humans, yes?" the head says in a feminine, monotone voice. Gene and I nod silently, and then the head turns to Connor.
"Who is the leader on this vessel?"
"That would be me," says Connor, slowly standing up and rubbing his aching back and face.
"King Connor Quist, along with my servants Oswald Orenson and Gene Cristoph," Connor says, introducing each of us with a wave.
Let's not forget that "S word", again, either.
The head nods, then slinks back to the rest of the group. They turn inward, as if they're tying their long necks in a knot, and begin whispering intensely. The moment Connor even attempts to shift his standing position, the heads snap back to him and hold the whip at the ready, producing a small yelp from his Majesty.
"You've come for our scales, haven't you?" asks the crimson head.
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"Scales?" Connor asks in confusion. "What do your scales have to do with any of this?! You attacked us!"
"Do not act dimmer than you are, human," says Crimson, immediately earning my respect.
"Your kind visited my people ages ago on a ridiculous pleasure trip talking about an archipelago, and tried to offer us some deal with your future generations for some of your resources in return for our scales. But Peludesians do not need the wares of outsiders; we are mighty alone!"
A guttural ululation erupts from the Peludesians soldiers along with a clacking of their weapons before they return to silence with a snap of the crimson head. Connor stares dumbstruck, and I realize I should probably take over before he gets them to throw us over the cliff.
"Uh... you are the ruler here, I assume?"
"We are the rulers of Peludus, yes," confirms Crimson. "We are the As-Yi collective, or the "Doom Collective" (...of course they're called doom...) in your tongue. As the one with nine heads, we were destined to rule. Individually, we are known as Katar, Reza, Taryn, Olar, Edrus, Nandos, Lyrae, Quintus, and myself, Xea. Together, our council of one body and many minds decides how to keep our people strong, and aligning with creatures that do not share nor respect our ways does not keep us strong."
"Yes, I could see the line of thought behind that, but there seems to be a misunderstanding. While we did come to seek trade as according to the old stories, we hadn't the foggiest fuck what was happening beyond our homes. We have no idea what importance your scales carry, nor what we did to incur your wrath so quickly. All we've done is sail along the damn river! (Starting to sense I'm not doing much better than Connor, here...)"
"You mean penetrated our waters!" Xea retorts. "Just as we do not leave to explore the stories those ancient humans told us of other lands out of respect, so too are outsiders not allowed here to explore us. And as for our scales, how foolish must you be? Do you not see the bands that hold your vessel now? The weapon I hold in my hand? Here, we use our very skin as a badge of honor, crafting weaponry, armor, clothing, and tools much stronger than your native textiles ever could."
I quickly turn to Gene and flash a grim stare, which he immediately returns with agreement. Xea's words, minus the unintentional innuendoes, only add more evidence to our earlier deduction. I turn back to Xea and clasp my hands, looking for something to get us out of this.
"And what impressive craftsmanship it is, Great As-Yi Collective," I muse, changing my tone to awe instead of anger. "My apologies my people do not display such acts of respect to the wider world. If you let us leave unharmed, it would be of no trouble of ours to never, ever, ever, EVER come to your abode again for the rest of ours or our descendants' lives."
Gene and Connor rapidly nod in agreement to my statements, but the As-Yi looks unconvinced. Xea (Or... somebody in the collective) raises their hand and returns to their talking knot. The indigo-colored head, a bit 'dopey-looking' compared to the others, with wide eyes and a flapping tongue, darts above the rest to eye us up and down, then returns to the others. After two minutes of whispering, they disassemble, and Xea rises again.
"You use the words of a diplomat, Orenson, but you are not the leader of your group. The fact your King could not muster the words you said and stands as a fool in front of us gives us pause that your kind can follow through on such a promise. And, given that it's very likely you've already searched for the islands spoken about by your ancestors, there's a chance you already have secured such 'deals' with whatever beings you found. For these reasons, we cannot in good conscience release your forces without a show of will and force."
"What kind of show?" says Connor cautiously. "While we acknowledge we are on your land, we are not puppets for your amusement. We will not move boulders up hills or hold our breaths under water to prove ourselves to you."
The Peludesians begin to laugh raucously at Connor's words, and the As-Yi taps their foot with a smirk.
"Such acts may be how you prove yourselves, but we would not spend our time with such trivial things. "
Xea looked at me, then Gene, then turned back to Connor.
"You three are your best fighters on this ship, yes?"
"Arguably so, yes," I respond. "What do you suggest? You want us to fight you?"
"No. You do not gain the honor of dying by our blade. But a match is how we shall settle this. Our best against yours; if you win, you gain freedom and our respect. If not... I'm sure you can figure out the rest."
"Quite vividly," says Gene. "When would this match start?"
"Now," says Xea, who then snaps her fingers to signal her troops. The soldiers then throw pink colored buds onto our ship, which begin releasing a thin gas into the air.
"What is that... what are you doing to... deprus... fuc..."
We're out cold in seconds, the last thing I hear being Connor and Gene falling to the floor.
While unconscious, I see visions again. Not of dancers like earlier, but of my mother at home, baking a nice loaf of bread like Dad used to. She's cutting me a few slices for a sandwich and waves for me to sit. I walk over, glad to see her safe once again, but it's snatched from me in an instant when my eyes bolt open to the sound of raucous chanting and hissing. I shoot up and take in my new surroundings: A small dirt alcove with thick, jagged bars holding us inside a makeshift cell. I turn to my left, and Gene and Connor are sitting cross-legged.
"Glad you could join us," scowls Gene. "We've been up for half an hour waiting for you. They wouldn't start until you were lucid."
"Start... the match! Wait, where are the others?"
"Xea's guards said they put them in the stands of the arena," answers Connor. "They confirmed Lina and Natalia are safe with the As-Yi, but Percival and my soldiers are in bounds in the bottom row of seats."
I turn and peer through the bars and see the alcove is on the side of a crude rink made of mud, rusted metal that looks like it was salvaged from the bottom of the sea, more of the Peludesians' scales, and rows upon rows of chairs fashioned from wood and vines.
"Alright, this seems simple enough. Just a nice big bowl and a 3-on-3 match. Do we know our opponents?"
"No. We asked but they just kept laughing," says Gene. As I back away from the bars to ponder a strategy, the door begins to pull away, allowing us to exit.
"Well, I guess we're about to find out," I say, walking out to the arena. Gene and Connor follow, and the roar of the audience grows threefold. Every seat is filled, and I can spot Natalia and Lina in chairs at the top of the rink, the As-Yi sitting between them with a smile. Two soldiers throw a litany of weapons in our direction and hiss at us. The As-Yi raises their hands for silence and the crowd runs quiet.
"People of Peludus," Xea starts, "Today, we test the resolve of our guests against the greatest of our island. Once the gates of Erun open, they will face a warrior so terrible that even if they survive, they will never be the same."
"Warrior? I thought this was 3 against 3?" whispers Gene. "As skilled as they are, what one soldier could eliminate the three of us?"
"Let the games begin!" Xea yells, and the gates on the other side of the rink are pulled open. A boom even greater than those on Vetin rings out, and Gene receives his answer: Our opponent is not a Peludesian warrior, but is instead a hulking creature 25 feet tall, with 6 feet elephant-like feet, the tail of a scorpion, and a mouth resembling the bottom of a squid. Connor picks up one of the serrated swords thrown to us and steps back with tapered fear.
"Ho-how are we supposed to fight a beast like that?!"
"We don't, Connor," I reply grimly. "We just hit it in vain and hope it gets bored with us."
As Natalia and Lina peer down on us with fear, Gene, Connor, and I take position and, against every instinct telling us to run, prepare for battle.