After all the captives were freed from the machines, it took a bit of persuasion for them to trust the saviors, who were all the most unusual of people to help them. A Leonian foreigner, a Fa’ar, and an unknown arachnid kind calling herself a Mygalean weren’t exactly the saviors they envisioned, but then, it was better than waiting for their deaths being drained of their life essences.
Narati did not expect a proper thank you from them. He had accepted the fact that no one would acknowledge a Fa’ar. What he would not accept was if they repaid the help they got with a stab in the back, or violent repercussions. Thankfully, that was not the case; they understood what situation they were in to reluctantly accept help from the three unusual saviors.
One of them, a fair-skinned elf, quickly took control of the situation and led the others to follow Narati towards the exit he learned from one of the Fa’ars he knocked out. He quickly found the door leading outside, but when he tried pushing it, he couldn’t. Even with the help of the others, it still wouldn’t budge.
“Damn! They locked us in,” he concluded. “You still can’t use any spells?”
“We haven’t found the source,” said the elf. “A dampening field should have a generator somewhere. A particularly good one could encompass the whole building and then some.”
“So, we shut the generator down, and we’ll be on our way?” surmised Narati. “If Asran is smart, he’d put the generator in the most well-guarded area in the building. I can only say one place for certain; his own room.”
“At the very top of the building? Most likely,” said an eager human. “We’ll just have to go up there and get it, then.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” said Narati. “I have a feeling that you don’t exactly have any fighting experience. Physically, I mean. The elf might have some, but I doubt you have, human.”
“The rat’s right. I’m just a scholar,” said the human. “Someone screwed me over, and now I’m in here.”
“If you can raise a knife, then you know how to defend yourself,” reasoned the elf. “What the rat means, though, is that you cannot fight against a horde of them as well as he and his friends are. This is the most unusual circumstance we are in, but we can only depend on them. Rat, or rather…what is your name?”
“Narati.”
“Narati. I’ll stay and help defend the others. You and your friends are the only ones capable of getting us out of here, so help us."
“We’ll try what we can, elf. Keep them safe."
The elf looked around, as if trying to see if someone’s coming at them, before she returned her attention to Narati and said, “To think I’d owe a favor to a ratfolk. We are living in uncertain times. Then again, I believe that the Dark Races deserve a chance to redeem themselves, despite their cursed existence.”
“Aside from that remark about curses, you don’t seem to share the thoughts of other light-skinned elves.”
“Which is why I am out here and not in the relative safety of a haven. Then again, I doubt you’d ever meet any other elves like me.”
“I have an elven friend. She accepts me without hesitation.”
“May I assume that she is a wood elf? To accept a ratfolk so easily is the trait of a child of the forest. You are fortunate to have met one. This is a hostile time for them. For all elvenkind. Yet, there are unexpected surprises, namely you. I suppose this world may be interesting, after all.”
“Don’t get your hopes up.”
“I have lived several of your lifetime. I think it is safe to say I understand how to be hopeful…and to be hopeless. This is not a time to be hopeless.”
Narati nodded, acknowledging the elf’s wisdom, and left her with the others. While their freedom was something he promised himself, his work was done. He needed to regroup with Karkas and deal with Asran. The young Fa’ar believed Karkas would be able to proceed without Narati’s help, considering how he seemed to be able to fight without relying on magic spells. His magic spell was mostly binding spells, so he was more of a support mage. He must have known self-defense.
The Fa’ar walked to N’Dari and Tulis, both of whom were waiting for him by the stairs after determining that no more reinforcements would come. They were ready to move on.
“No luck with the door, I presume?” asked Tulis. Narati replied with a shake of his head.
“They’ll be safer down here in the basement,” said N’Dari. “Though if they are waiting for us up there, we’re screwed.”
“Not necessarily. I can throw a flash to disorient them, then we’ll come up and jump on them. It’s particularly potent against Fa’ars.”
“You’re well-prepared,” commented Tulis. “If that is the plan, then proceed.”
Narati nodded and climbed the stairs, one of his hands rummaging through his satchel. When he reached the last flight of stairs, he kept his head low and body close to the stairs. He peeked up and found a door. Noting that this could be hard to determine what awaited them behind the door, Narati continued with his initial plan.
He tested the door, slowly turning the knob and opened it, making sure he did not make unnecessary noises. He peeked out, expecting someone or more. Not wanting to take any chances, he pulled the pin of the homemade flash grenade and threw it from behind the door. The sound of the grenade hitting the floor, followed by a sudden, but short-lived blinding light, signaled Narati that it worked. Narati was glad that he carried non-magic grenades or else it would all fail.
He did not hear any pained yell or surprise, but he assumed that he was good to go. He opened the door forcefully, axe ready in hand to attack the stunned Fa’ars waiting for him behind the door.
Except, to his confusion, there were no one waiting for him. He walked into a familiar empty room, the same one he and Karkas were in before he fell through the trapdoor. The once dark room was now illuminated by the light from outside, though from the redness of the light, Narati could tell that the sun was setting. Broken panels and crossbow bolts were found all over the room, some lodged deep into the concrete surface and some strewn across the room as if discarded. A big door, one that Narati remembered closed when he noticed it, was now open, leading deeper into the warehouse.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
He was quickly drawn to the body of a Fa’ar near the corner of the room. He approached the body, noting that his neck was broken. His weapon, a wrist-mounted, gas-powered crossbow, drew Narati’s attention. It worked just like an automatic pistol, only it used gas to propel the bolts much faster, increasing its accuracy. The lack of blood would only mean that the bolts did not penetrate any flesh.
The only one who was in that room before that Fa’ar was Karkas, making Narati conclude that this was the aftermath of Karkas’s fight, and he proceeded deeper into the building through the door on top of the stairs.
“I’m clear!” said Narati loudly, signaling the other two to come to the first floor. Tulis was the first at the scene, followed by N’Dari. They joined Narati by the dead body of the Fa’ar archer.
Tulis noticed the open door by the end of the stairs and said, “Your friend didn’t wait for you.”
“He had unfinished business with your former benefactor,” said Narati.
“Then he is walking into a trap. We must make haste, Narati.”
Narati was already planning to do just that. He ran on all fours, intending to catch up with Karkas as soon as he could, but before he could move further from the others, Tulis stopped him with a well-aimed web shot to the Fa’ar’s long tail.
“Not that much of a haste,” she said. “An open corridor with nothing but stairs to go up feels too convenient to me.”
“Yeah.” N’Dari sniffed the air when he entered the corridor. He immediately covered his snout and exclaimed, "Shit!"
“What?” asked Narati.
“We better get to the next floor, quick! There’s poison in the air.”
“I don’t smell anything,” said Narati, just before he felt himself losing his balance. “But you’re right.”
He immediately dashed towards the stairs, with N’Dari following close behind and Tulis opting to use the ceiling to reduce her exposure to whatever gas was in the room. Any poisonous gas, to her knowledge, would be heavier than air, so it would not reach the ceiling.
Their quick action saved them from being potentially incapacitated or killed by the almost odorless poison gas, or so it seemed. N’Dari was the only one who noticed it, while Narati was physically affected by it.
When they reached the stairs on the other end of the corridor, Narati said, “That’s no trap. If it was, we would trigger some contraption.”
“Or someone triggered the trap,” said Tulis. “Your friend, perhaps?”
“If that is the case, then we really need to catch up with him. Knowing Karkas, he wouldn’t let some poisonous gas stop him. He’s a tough Croc, even without his magic.”
This was the first time Narati’s companions learned of Karkas’s race. It fascinated them both, especially N’Dari.
“A Croc mage’s as rare as a well-enchanted sword,” he said. “You found yourself an interesting friend, rat.”
“How rare, exactly?”
“Not that rare, considering what the lion said about a well-enchanted sword,” said Tulis. “Although, it depends on what he considered a well-enchanted sword, which is relative.”
As they climbed the stairs, N’Dari started to explain his experience with the Crocodilians.
“They are one of the most magically inept races I know of,” he explained. “Despite this, they can still learn spellcasting, only they will not be as effective as other races like, say, a human. Elves are clearly far superior than all of us. Of course, that doesn’t mean they can’t handle enchanted weapons. I have had Crocodilian warriors commissioning certain enchantment to their weapons when they came to the Southern Plains."
“I don’t think I’d say Karkas an inept mage,” remarked Narati. “Besides, he’s a priest. I assume priests are taught basic magic-based skills.”
“For that, I have no comment. I forge and enchant, not researching Crocodilian cultures. I learned what I observed.”
“Also, did you say you are an enchanter? Like, someone who works as an artificer?”
“No.” N’Dari pondered a bit, and said, “Yes, technically. Some people thinks they are the same thing, but to me, an artificer and an enchanter are not interchangeable. Enchanters work with simple weapons like swords. Artificers are also engineers, so they are a bridge between traditional magic and technology. The best of both worlds, I suppose."
“But you don’t need to know complex machineries if you focus on the enchantments, right?"
N’Dari turned his gaze towards the Fa’ar. “Is there something you want to tell me, rat?”
“It’s Narati, and yes. I need someone who can help with enchantments in my workshop. And a blacksmith, too, but I prefer to do things one at a time."
“You? Owning a workshop?” said N’Dari in disbelief.
“Still working on the economy side, though, given that I have no such experience. But hey. At least I know someone who can help. Besides, you owe me one for saving you and I have an opening. What do you say?”
Before N’Dari could say anything more, Tulis stopped the two from proceeding by holding out her hand right in front of Narati. The Fa’ar looked at the spider person and asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I suggest you stop talking about your business and look around.”
Narati and N’Dari soon found themselves staring at a massacre. A dozen Fa’ars or so were torn to pieces. None of them were intact in any way. Gore and blood caked the whole area. It was as if a wild beast rampaged through these Fa’ars.
Walking through the corridor with all the bodies, broken wood panels, and broken lighting, the three couldn’t fathom what happened while they were underground. No one was left alive. Even the rooms were not spared. With the Fa’ars within the room added to the tally, the dead Fa’ars were at least 30 at most.
“Stay sharp,” said N’Dari. “Whatever’s doing this is still around. Provided it wasn’t put down by one of these rats.”
“This isn’t the work of a feral beast,” surmised Tulis as she examined one of the Fa’ars. “This one has its neck broken, but with no other injuries. The bloody massacre only happened further down the corridor. Which means this isn’t a beast.”
“A beast person?” Narati found his answer immediately. “Karkas?”
“It checks. A Crocodilian warrior is capable of doing all these. It’s just…isn’t this a bit too excessive? He acts like an animal more than a beast person.”
“Karkas would never do this. Sure, he’s a Croc, but this? This is beyond him. Believe me. I know him well enough to know he would not do such a thing deliberately.”
Soon after Narati said that, the three of them heard a growl. It was a very distinctive, guttural growl, one that Narati was familiar with. He would be elated to know that Karkas was still alive, but then, he hesitated. If he really caused the bloody massacre, then he would be far from the Crocodilian Narati knew. He did not want that to be the truth. He was clearly apologetic after threatening to eat Narati’s leg when they first met, but could that be because he repressed it well? Could these Fa’ars push him over the edge?
Narati found his answer when someone came out from one of the rooms. Narati instantly knew that it was Karkas, but to his horror, he saw the leg of a Fa’ar in his mouth. Karkas did not chew on it and it slid out of his mouth. His bronze scales were covered in blood, and on his left hand was the remains of a Fa’ar, missing his head. Narati did not want to believe that Karkas ate it.
“Kar…?” asked Narati cautiously. He was in disbelief. Was the bronze-scaled Crocodilian really Karkas? His pupils were thin, like when he was angered or fighting. He was glaring all the time.
Karkas then turned towards the three. He immediately released his latest victim.
“Asran…,” he said. He repeated the word.
Narati, aware that he looked similar to Asran from afar, realized that Karkas was provoked by his appearance. He knew he couldn’t reason with him, but at the same time, he did not want to be forced to kill his friend. Hoping that there was still reason left in Karkas, Narati put away his axe and said, “Kar, it’s me, Nara. I’m not—”
He quickly regretted his choice. Karkas dashed towards them. His jaws wide open.