Chapter 125

Burdens (III)

Albadesh was the youngest city of the the Fiery Lakes region of the Second Trial, built just short of two centuries ago by Forefather Desh and Foremother Alba, thus the city's name. At first, it was considered just a small outpost by many, a relay point between far more ancient and populous cities of Fiery Lakes, though, through time, it had grown to be one of the major trading points, not just in Fiery Lakes, but the Second Trial in general.

This was because of the Unur Vein located some two hundred feet below the city; Unur was not necessarily rare to find, but its veins were. In ordinary times, Unur would merely be used as a polishing agent for weapons and armors, but in large quantities, and through proper formations, it could be used as a form of energy to bend the fabric of spacetime and channel it into opening tunnels between points.

It was through this method that the city bloomed from a tiny pup to the growing behemoth -- they had links not only to the heart of the Second Trial, City of Mirrors -- but also to other major regions.

The novelty of it all was tempting and the city had endured quite a few sieges over its short history, eventually needing to form a pact with City of Mirrors for protection. However, the fees were extravagant; not only did Albadesh need to provide for all the materials used in teleportations, they also had to send yearly ‘offerings’, and if they didn’t go up, they certainly never went down.

The sentiment of the generational rulers was part bitterness and part helplessness; they didn’t want the huge contract weighing over them, but they didn’t have enough strength to protect themselves on their own.

King Albadesh was mulling over this very problem on a fateful night; he'd been locked up in his study, looking through any and all potential paths he could take the city since their current state was unsustainable. They barely had any profits from the teleportation links, and he knew that, with the arrival of a new batch of Conquerors, the costs would skyrocket since most of them would be considered 'citizens of City of Mirrors', and thus would be exempt from paying.

In such strained state and adrift in dark and turbulent thoughts, he heard a voice -- a whisper, really. A raspy, low, choral hiss that seemed to trickle from beyond the veil of reality directly into his mind. The voice offered him a different fate, gifts beyond compare, knowledge, strength, power, influence -- everything not just he, but his entire lineage, had always dreamed about. A chance to free themselves, a chance to become a Kingdom of their own.

Such a gift, however, he knew -- it would never be free. There would be a price to pay -- a blood price. That night, he snuck back into his chambers and used his newly acquired power to stiffen her heart by injecting strange energy directly into her veins. The Physician was flabbergasted by the sight, as he’d never seen anything quite like it, having only been able to conclude she ‘died of poisoning or such’.

He’d gotten away with it, he knew -- but it was just the beginning. He needed much, much more -- war-efforts more. Luckily, his Prime Champion, a lad he’d saved a few months back, had raised the idea during the Meeting of the Elders -- to publicly condemn such a shameful act and raise war banners to smoke out those who would do it.

Though most of what Taima represented didn’t sit well with Albadesh, he was quite proud of the boy at that moment; he readily accepted the proposal, and even the Elders got fired up, caught up in the moment. And, thus, the Proclamation of War was sent out.

At the moment, King Albadesh was rummaging through the reports; arrivals of allied forces, the number of soldiers he had, and who was suspected of having killed Queen Ryza. He snickered silently at it all, his graying beard fluttering slightly. The look in his eyes was eerily full of clarity, as though he possessed all the truths of the world and was just waiting for the right moment to spring them upon the world.

He looked out through the window and at the waning moon surrounded by distant stars. There was the slightest trace of cool breeze in the air, and the calm on the surface hiding the dread deep beneath inspired him. Soon... he would start a war. It didn’t matter with whom. Anyone. As long as there were enough people fighting and dying, he had a chance to completely change his fate. To go from an ordinary King-in-just-a-name to one of those Divines that myths and legends revered as gods.

And there was nothing standing in his way -- nobody suspected it was him who felled the Queen. After all, they were in love -- all the stories said so. Fate had cursed them and hadn't given them any children, but in return, it rewarded them with eternal and unconditional love for one another. A pestering lie, that was all it was.

The reason they didn't have children was that Ryza never consummated the marriage with him -- rather, she never even slept in the same room as him, often kicking him out of his own chambers so he may sleep elsewhere. It was not a hard choice, to deal her such a fate. If nothing else, she died for the sake of the place she did love. I’ll also slay that boy-toy of yours, Albadesh knew -- nigh all Elders knew, really -- that Ryza was not void of desire.

If anything, she brimmed with it, having accosted many-a-young-men in her chambers and devoured them. One, however, stood out among all -- a very young pup, not even of Age just yet, whom she frequently goaded into following her back into her chambers. On occasion, Albadesh could even hear them through the walls as they hardly worked to keep it hidden.

He glanced down at his arm and at the armlet that he was given -- a silver chain protruding down over his elbow and his forearm, winding up into a pair of red-eyed skulls. He could feel the almost-infinite energy seeping out from it... he just had to unlock the gates, the doors to its heart.

He lowered his head and gently pressed his lips against the cool and rugged surface of the skulls, inhaling the few tendrils of smoke that escaped it, feeling reinvigorated. His twilight-dotted eyes swirled like maddened vortexes, lips curling up into a bedeviled grin; there was something ominous above him, invisible, like a hand of beyond veiling the reality of his mind. It could not be touched, felt, or sensed -- but it could be heard, if it so willed it. And, on this night, it did. Albadesh stiffened, his muscles contracting, upon hearing that same, raspy voice appear inside his mind yet again.

“... a Thief looms over your cradle,” the voice sounded ancient but, beyond that, it was painful to endure -- so much so that Albadesh had to use every ounce of his willpower not to break out into tears. “We sensed him.”

“... a-a-a thief...?” Albadesh mumbled. “What... thief? Nothing was... stolen...”

“A Thief beyond Edifice,” the voice replied. “Cradled in the Allotment’s Embrace. Hasten the Sacrifice, Mortal. Thief cannot unearth our Bends.”

“...I--”

“We shall afford you a singular Drop of Time,” the voice added abruptly. “For when in doubt, kiss its Soul and it shall reveal the Truth beyond the veil. Thief shall beget strength, so wary your Mortal-Mind; do not fight It, lest you spoil our plans.”

As swiftly as it came, the voice vanished back into the ether, leaving Albadesh with far more questions than answers. His eyes inadvertently traveled up to where he saw a singular drop floating midair, embroiled inside a glassed sphere. It was colorless, shapeless, bending in and out of reality, seemingly tearing open the dimensions of Matter itself.

He gingerly reached over and took it; it was distant and faint, but he felt the certain kind of pull -- one beyond dreadful... the pull of Age. He was certain that, if he touched the Drop directly, he’d turn into an old man almost instantly. And yet... he had to kiss it, to find this Thief. Bah, what thief?! He dismissed the thought; he’d just seen the future alight, the potential for him to become a True King. Why would he discard it for some sewer-infested rat sneaking around and stealing things?

He can steal, Albadesh ascertained, whatever he wanted; it didn't matter. The eventual victory would be his and his alone. Nobody and nothing could stand in his path. This would become his Era and his Era alone.

**

Taima felt slightly uncomfortable beneath the gazes of seven souls inspecting him queerly. It was especially so with the women in the group, who all had a certain, dangerous shine in their eyes that he couldn’t easily dismiss. He glanced over at his Master with a pleading gaze but only saw his head turned aside, shoulders bouncing. This--it’s a test!! He realized. It was his Master’s first test for him -- can he endure the pressure?

“Taima,” one of the women spoke his name in a soft voice; she had hair golden and sunburned, a pair of elysian, sapphire-blue eyes, and a dangerous, disarming smile. “Did Cain bully you?”

“H-huh?”

“If he has,” she added swiftly. “Tell us. We’ll pay him back doubly.”

"N-no! Master--Master didn't bully me!" Taima quickly replied, now certain this was a test. First, it was his ability to resist the woman's pull, and the second was to defend his Master's name.

“No need to lie,” yet another strange woman, silver-haired and eyed, spoke out, reaching out and gently grabbing his hand. Hers, however, was chilly, like frigid frost of the winter, causing Taima to nearly cry out. Another test! This time... physical! Master thought of everything!

While Taima’s delusions grew bolder and bolder, Cain stared at the strange scene in front of him in silence, suddenly feeling a shudder. He frowned and swiftly looked out the window, coating himself in Mana to hide his actions from others. There was nothing out there but the deep and dreary night and the slightly chilly breeze. Did I imagine it? His heartbeat, however, thought otherwise, rapid and drumming. No, he shook his head. He knew better than to doubt that instinct.

Just now, even if it was for the briefest of moments, he picked up on a very eerie -- but abnormally familiar -- trace of Mana. No, it wasn’t Mana -- but rather its opposite, so to say. The Council’s not here, he quickly concluded. If it were, we’d all be dead. Maybe an Outer Servant? The King? Are you... are you fucking kidding me?!!

He nearly shouted his frustrations audibly, barely managing to hold them down. Things kept getting out of control, more so than on the First Floor. He was also beginning to realize just how little he actually remembered and even knew of what had transpired in the Tower the last time. If someone linked to the Council really was here, on the Second Floor, he couldn’t delay. The Queen’s death... probably his Initiation Rite, his already drumming heart sped up, seemingly wanting to break out of his chest. That means that the war... would be his Acceptance Rite... no, I can’t let that happen. It would effectively make this floor uninhabitable for everyone else for at least a couple of years...

“Pack up,” he suddenly spoke in a grim tone, startling everyone. “We’re going on a raid -- tonight. And we need to -- we need to win. I don’t care how you do under pressure, tonight... you’ll be the closing, clutch superstars. And if any of you misstep, there will be a spanking to compensate for it in the future. Got it? That includes you too, Taima. You have fifteen minutes to prepare. We depart right after.”