18 Lux 778 Post-Sundering (P.S.)
A deserted island off the north-western coast of Rezan
U’kzal was quite pleased with the new body he had acquired. Sure, his host had poor eyesight and a slight paunch, but at this point any body was better than nothing.
He stretched his arms upward, trying his best to relieve the ache he felt in his shoulders. It had been one of the first things he had noticed about this body when he had taken control of it – probably due to his host’s poor posture – and it had been bothering him ever since.
He then allowed himself to relax, reclining against a large rock. He tilted his head back, looking up at the darkening sky. The sun was beginning to disappear below the horizon, leaving behind a wide expanse of deepening azure streaked with red and orange clouds. For a long moment he just sat and watched. It had been a long, long time since he had been able to appreciate something so beautiful.
As he sat there watching the sky, his left leg began to twitch involuntarily. U’kzal frowned – his host was trying to take back control again. He closed his eyes to concentrate, exerting all his will into shoving down the other soul that inhabited this body. A moment or two later he had resumed control again.
He flexed the leg, moving it experimentally. Once he was satisfied with the level of control he had over the limb, he allowed himself to settle back against the rock. It was not the first time his host had resisted U’kzal’s control, and he doubted it would be the last. Not that it bothered him. By this point, he had gone through so many hosts that the process was familiar, even tedious at times. He just needed to be patient.
A loud crack sounded not far from where U’kzal was reclining, and he flinched as a tree came crashing down next to him, spraying sand into his face and onto his tattered amber-yellow robes. He sputtered, removing his glasses so he could wipe the sand from his eyes.
A towering figure appeared on the other side of the felled tree, a beast-man bearing the features of a bull. His fur was black, albeit filthy, and two large horns curved out from the sides of his head.
Once U’kzal had replaced his glasses, he glared up at the beast-man. “Oi!” he called.
The beast-man looked up at U’kzal. Although he seemed to hear and respond to U’kzal’s voice, the beast-man’s face was slack and his eyes had a distant, empty look.
“Be more careful!” U’kzal ordered.
The beast-man gave a low grunt of acknowledgement. Then he bent down and – with seemingly little effort – hoisted the tree onto his shoulder. U’kzal watched the beast-man carry the tree down the beach to where a small group of men were laboring away at building a raft. They were all sailors, by the look of them, and, in spite of the arduous work they were doing, they all had the same blank expression on their faces as well.
U’kzal watched them for a moment while he absently fiddled with the gold chain of his crystal pendant. The raft was about half-finished. If they kept working through the night it would be ready to go by morning. Under normal circumstances the sailors would have protested, but right now they didn’t have any say in the matter, and U’kzal intended to keep it that way.
The smell of freshly cooked fish caught his attention next, and he turned to see one of the sailors approaching him, bearing a crude plate fashioned out of a piece of bark. It was the red-headed boy, the youngest member of the crew. His face was just as slack as the others, and he wordlessly kneeled next to U’kzal, proffering the plate.
“Well, it’s about time!” U’kzal said, his mouth watering. He eagerly reached for the plate and took it in both hands.
In one swift motion, the red-headed boy grabbed the gold chain, slipped it off of U’kzal’s neck, and somersaulted backwards across the sand. He landed on one knee and held up the pendant triumphantly.
“Hah! Got it!” the boy cried.
The movement was so sudden and so fast that it actually threw U’kzal off guard. It took him a moment to register that the boy was thinking and moving of his own accord, but once he did, anger began to build in his chest.
“Boy, what do you think you are doing?” he asked, malice seeping into his voice.
The red-headed boy stood up. He dangled the pendant with a taunting motion, causing the spherical, purple crystal it carried to glitter in the fading light.
“I finally got it off of you, Seeker Torban!” the boy said.
“Torban?” U’kzal echoed, puzzled for a moment. Then he remembered: Darius Torban. That was his host’s name. The boy still thought he was dealing with Seeker Torban. Well, U’kzal saw no point in keeping up pretenses here. He slowly set the plate of fish down, then stood, dusting his robes off.
“Seeker Torban is no longer here. Now, kindly return what you stole, and I may yet let you live.” He held out a hand expectantly to the boy.
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The boy’s triumph quickly faded into confusion. He looked between U’kzal and the pendant. “What…? But… but you’re not wearing it anymore!”
“Nevertheless, it is mine. Now return it, boy,” U’kzal demanded.
A long moment of silence stretched between them. The boy looked at U’kzal, looked at his outstretched hand, then turned and ran back down the beach towards the other sailors.
“Captain! Captain Beck!” the boy called as he ran.
U’kzal lowered his hand, then strode after the boy. He knew it was a hopeless endeavor to try and rally the crew, but he had to admire the boy’s tenacity. He calmly followed after, watching as the boy tried in vain to break through to his crewmates.
“Captain! Captain, it’s me! It’s Xan!” the boy said, grabbing his captain by the shoulder. Captain Beck ignored the boy, continuing with his work on the raft.
“Captain, please!” the boy begged. In desperation be began going to each of his crewmates, shaking them and trying to break their stupor. “Camilo? Hevel? Ronan? Come on, it’s me! It’s Xan! Why won’t you snap out of it?”
“It’s useless, boy,” U’kzal said, striding up to Xan. “They are under my control, and there is nothing you can do to change that.” Without waiting for the boy to respond, he reached out his right hand to take the pendant.
His left hand suddenly grabbed his right wrist. Irritated, U’kzal tried to pull his arms apart, but the left hand refused to release its vice-like grip.
“Meddling Seeker!” U’kzal said through gritted teeth as he struggled. Then his left leg gave out from under him, causing him to fall to his knees in the sand. U’kzal tried to rise, but the leg refused to obey him. All the while, the boy watched on in horror.
Then suddenly U’kzal’s consciousness was smacked aside, and for the briefest second, he lost control. It was all the Seeker needed. He looked up at the boy and screamed, “RUN, XAN!”
Like a startled deer, the boy took off towards the trees at the edge of the beach. Before U’kzal could regain control of his host, the boy had already disappeared among the twilight shadows.
Seething in anger, U’kzal shouted at the rest of the sailors. “Don’t just stand there, get him! Bring my crystal back!”
At his command, all of the sailors immediately stopped what they were doing and took off after the boy. Even the large, bull-like beast man charged into the trees, almost knocking down a couple as he ran. Soon the crashing faded into the distance, and U’kzal was left alone on the beach.
He wrestled with himself in the sand, unable to escape the Seeker’s grip. Without his crystal to help him, regaining control of his host was going to be an ordeal. He growled in frustration as he tugged at his limbs.
“It’s futile, Seeker,” he groaned.
Maybe, the Seeker’s voice echoed in his head, but I’ll be damned if I go down without giving you a fight!
They struggled on the beach for what felt like hours, until finally U’kzal managed to shove Seeker Torban’s soul down completely. He lay motionless on the sand for a long while, heaving from the exertion of their battle of wills. Sweat dripped from his forehead, and his body ached.
Once he felt like he could finally move again, he gingerly stood up. A moment later he heard the sound of footsteps coming from the tree line. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he turned to greet the approaching sailors.
Captain Beck walked in front of his crew, his rapier drawn. The tip of it was coated in blood. At the sight, U’kzal felt a tinge of pity for the boy. Then he shrugged mentally – a fresh corpse made for a better thrall, anyway. He would raise the boy’s remains later.
He approached the captain, straightening his robes and pushing up his glasses as he went. Then he held out his hand expectantly.
“Well done, captain. Now, give me the crystal,” he said. The captain turned his blank expression up to U’kzal.
“Can’t.”
U’kzal stared at him for a moment in disbelief. Then his hand tightened into a fist.
“What do you mean, you can’t? Where is my crystal?”
The captain made a vague gesture. “Gone.”
“Gone? What do you mean, gone? It was with the boy! Did you find the boy?”
The captain nodded.
“Then, where is he?”
“Gone.”
Whack! U’kzal backhanded the captain with his fist. The captain staggered, colliding with a nearby tree.
“Then bring him to me! Search the whole island if you have to!” U’kzal commanded.
The captain shook his head, suddenly unsteady on his feet. He leaned his arm against the tree before replying in a low moan: “Searched. All. Gone.”
U’kzal raised his arm to deliver another blow, but stopped himself when he saw the captain looking up at him with the same blank expression. Instead, he turned around and screamed in rage. He then began to pace back and forth, thoughts racing. The boy was gone, and his crystal with it. How could the boy have possibly escaped from the island? He couldn’t have just disappeared into thin air—
U’kzal stopped. Closing his eyes, he reached back into his host’s memory. Slowly, the events of the past few weeks began to unfold in reverse: U’kzal possessing Seeker Torban and taking control of the crew; Seeker Torban finding U’kzal’s crystal pendant among the ruins; a funeral on the beach as the sailors buried their crewmates; abandoning ship as the stormy waves raged around them; Seeker Torban urging Captain Beck to sail to just one more island…
U’kzal kept searching until he found what he was looking for: The crew were enjoying a night of song and drink on the deck of their ship. A human wearing a blue bandana shoved an ale into Seeker Torban’s hands, laughing loudly. Across the way, the red-headed boy was having an arm-wrestling match over a barrel with one of his crewmates. Just as it seemed like he was about to lose, a small creature popped into existence on top of the barrel, startling the crewmate. The boy slammed his crewmate’s hand down, crowing exultantly.
As the boy and his crewmate started arguing about whether or not it was a fair contest, U’kzal focused on the small creature. At first glance it looked much like a weasel, with a long, slender body and neck, short legs, and a slim tail. Its fur was short and gray, with a slight silvery sheen on the top and sides. But unlike most weasels, this one had large, round eyes that looked slightly too big for its small, flattened head, atop which were two small but slender antennae ending in feathery, moth-like tufts.
A Planestrider.
U’kzal snapped open his eyes. So that was how the boy had escaped.
“Very well. Run all you want,” U’kzal said, a sudden feeling of calm washing over him.
Then he turned and commanded the sailors to get back to work. They all obeyed, wordlessly returning to the raft. He, however, returned to the rock where he had been reclining against before, and settled down for a long night of sleep.
After all, he had all the time in world to achieve his goal. It didn’t matter how far the boy ran, or how long it took to find him once they returned to the mainland. U’kzal would track him down and get his crystal back, one way or another.