23 Tribal

Meok Altuza, Champion of Shelsinging - A shelsing will tear you in two faster than you can think. I remember one that got a hold of my wife. Poor thing. She was destroyed. The Shelsing that is.

After leaving Aether and Razor to their devices, I explored the tribes surrounding Nelastra. The origin of the tribe’s alterations peaked my curiosity, so I darted and dove through the trees as I spied on them.

Within seconds, they discovered my presence, despite the late hour. I learned that none of the forgotten tribes sleep. Not a single soul. Noting this, I gazed at a strong, young male who stood with glowing skin. Though tall, he stood shorter than I, and the thickness of his brow gave him appearance similar to what Jack called a monkey.

Of course, the keen intellect of his eyes as he followed my shadow showed a different mindset than his appearance would dictate. He and another, shorter males stared with ire and intent as they brandished spears with blocks of black glass at their ends.

Their makeshift huts stood behind them, vines holding the constructs up. Roots bored into these rooms, and eyes full of fear glanced through the cracks and crevices of these huts. Fireflies darted over them in swarms, lighting the entire village in a yellow light. Thin and gangly, these warriors stood underneath me as if awaiting their death. If the wolfs of before had come here, they’d slaughter the entire village with ease. These people, they lived with dread at every shadow. They lived in constant terror.

Their instincts were good, however. Finding me as I hide is something few have done and even fewer have stood with their chest out as I approached. They’d already earned my admiration, like a puppy barking to protect its master from a bull.

So after pushing several branches out of the way, I lept from the tree. Wind rushed across my face before my heels pierced through several inches of roots as I landed. The rumbling made men’s jaws set with despair, but after I stood, I opened my arms and said,

“I mean no harm here. I am simply a new saint who wishes to see the plight of your people.”

The younger man raised his eyebrows before the older one said with a grating, slow voice,

“We...do not...trust outsider.”

I nodded before stepping towards them and saying, “I am no outsider, you see.”

They squinted towards me before I snapped a set of claws from my fingertips as I flicked my wrist. The gray talons reflected the lemon shade of the fireflies as I continued, “I’m rather mutated myself, perhaps more so than yourselves.”

They lowered their spears as the older of the two said, “Are you from Beniiagani tribe?”

I shook my head as I retracted my claws and said, “No. I am from Nelastra. The city within that gargantuan sphere.”

They turned towards one another before got onto their knees and said, “Please forgive. We meant no harm. We did not know. Please forgive.”

I paced over as I said, “I’m feeling rather low on mercy, but I may forgive you, if you disclose a few details about your and the surrounding tribes.”

The older of the two stared up and said, “A realm walker wants knowledge of us? Why?”

I squatted down while resting my elbows on my knees as I said, “Because those who crawl on the bottom see the gritty details of those who live above them.”

The man nodded before I said, “Would you mind standing? I prefer speaking with people at eye level. The back of my neck grows tired from looking down, you see.”

They both nodded with vigor before they stood, their movements rushed and clumsy before the younger one grabbed his older brother's arm and said, “We should not tell him. We should let elder.”

The older brother nodded before turning towards me and saying, “Follow us. We show you elder.”

I grinned as I said, “Then show him to me.”

We walked through their shantytown of a village, the other members hiding their dismay behind the trunks of trees or the thin windows in their housing. After reaching a hut ever so slightly larger than the others, I said,

“My weight will break the wooden stairs. Bring him outside.”

The younger one said, “Ok, we will.”

After waiting outside, they bring a women with strings of gray lining in her hair, not even old by a city's standards. Her hunched back displayed the calcified vertebrae of her spine, and the dozens of scars on her hands and arms showed a lifetime of fighting. Her strong stare impressed me, along with the rippling muscles of her arms.

She walked towards me with her arms crossed behind me before she said, “What does a realm walker want with our village? We already shipped a week's worth of fireshade.”

I glanced down at her and said, “I want you to answer a few questions.”

Her lips thinned into a white line before she said, “Like what?”

“Like has any of your members went missing recently?”

“People die all the time here in the village. That is nothing unusual.”

A sly smile slid onto my lips as I said, “Ah, but I’m wondering about the nature of their deaths.”

Her brow wrinkled as I said, “You see, I’ve come across an awareness of a few unsavory individuals. They have a penchant for running experiments on things, particularly people. Know I am no expert in the ways your villagers die, but I can make a few presumptions.”

I gestured a hand outwards as I said, “Sickness, during hunts, perhaps in skirmishes with other tribes, but to just disappear? That kind of ending should stick out among all the others. Tell me, has the rate of disappearances increased over the last several months, if not dramatically so?”

Her voice and hands hardened as she said, “How do you know of that?”

I leaned towards her as I said, “My own enemies have need for able minded bodies, if not an unquenchable thirst. They view you all as sub human, so they aim for catching your kind. If you’d like, I can help you, for a favor.”

In an instant, her eyes softened as they opened wider and the lines on her face smoothed as she said, “You, you will help us?”

I shook my head as I said, “Hah, help? I do not give out my assistance without due payment, but I offer you something in return for your help.”

She blinked before saying with a mindful hope in her tone, “What is it then? We can offer as much fireshade as you want.”

I rolled my eyes before I said, “No, I require none of that. I want an exchange. You’re knowledge for my own. I will tell you how to prevent anymore disappearances, and you will tell me about your and the surrounding villages.”

She glanced towards the two tribesmen before turning towards me and saying, “That’s all?”

I nodded before saying, “Of course. Do you accept?”

“Yes, yes. Please tell us how to stop them.”

“With pleasure.”

And so she and I discussed many things. She told me of how her tribe harvested the fireflies for fireshade, and the nobles of Nelastra would buy the glowing liquid and feed it to plants. After several months of doing so, the plants would glow different shades based on their the color of the fireshade fed to them. This tribe supplied the plant aura’s that bathed Mareovosa and Nelastra in a lambent light.

Other tribes supplied many of the organic commodities other cities used everyday. One tribe supplied furs from beasts, like the six-legged fassar or the vicious white wolfs I saw earlier. Other’s slaid large lizards before selling their scaled skin for use in armors and potions. Each village had their specialty, and these specialties determined their status.

The fire shades, this elder’s village, held an upper tier in the indigenous echelon. Despite their obvious poverty, they still held their heads high since they stood above many others. That ranking seemed like the controlling mechanism that Nelastra used for suppressing the villagers. The tribes spent a mountain of resources and time fighting for rank, so they never even considered rebelling against their overlords. They were to busy scrambling for scraps to even consider upheaval.

Hundreds of tribesman had been disappearing from other clans as well. I already understood who wanted these bodies and why they wanted them. The palisade needed subject of study. Who better than the mindless savages surrounding them?

The same savages who spoke of their missing members with tears in their eyes and hot coals in their throats. Though these primitive people lacked education and food and safety, they kept the core of their humanity in tact. In many ways, they lived with greater dignity than the blind nobles who stomped on them. The nobles ignored these souls, numb to their suffering, blind to their affliction.

It disturbed me, but a simple solution would solve their woes. I told them of the signs of gemchaining. Blurred air, the ripping of metal and the ripples of light and sound. If the villagers could run and hide until the chainers ran out charges, then the superior physiques of the tribesman would win over the equipment of the palisade. The palisade also aimed for young men and women, not the sick or elderly. They needed solid, secure shells for their tests.

These facts proved invaluable in their defense. These people viewed chainers as gods of the elements and as masters of metal. Instead of fighting or escaping, they prostrated themselves before these figures, hoping for mercy. They would find none, then be captured and given a fate worse than death.

Having helped them, I weakened the palisades progression while gaining a better understanding of Nelastra’s condition. Though I enjoyed a good fight at times, I’d rather not fight anymore malshapened mutants than necessary. I’m sure you could relate.

After informing the tribe’s of their enemy’s tactics, I went back towards Nelastra, my footsteps light and lithe as I shifted between branches in the canopy. Right as I neared the barrier, I leapt toward the ground before a set of runes appeared beneath me.

The trap sprung, nimble and numbing as roots clamped around my legs and arms. As if coiled by wooden snake, I waited for whoever devised this contraption. At that moment, a man in a metal mask slithered from the shadows, his form flickering.

As he approached, he walked within two feet of me as he said in a muffled voice, “You...You’re not a tribesman.”

A sinister smile snapped onto my face as I bared my teeth and said, “And you’re already dead.”

At my last word, the skin covering my collarbone and neck ruptured as an arm ripped out. The bloody limb latched onto the man’s mouth faster than a viper’s strike. The man glanced at me, unable to speak before another arm ripped from my neck as I said,

“Why don’t we use you for an experiment as well? I’m sure you already had some torture lined up for the poor soul trapped within the vines.”

His skin paled as the extra arm gripped behind his head. Using two fingers, I forced open his jaw as my fingers grew down his throat. The tubes of tissue ceased his screams, allowing only a panicked muffling as they pierced into his organs. As his eyes darted around, I said,

“An insect near here inspired a question you see. Why should I attack an enemy’s outside when their insides are so vulnerable?”

The arm slid down throat as I continued, “Injecting just a portion of my mass would leave you helpless against me, and this death is far more fitting than just ripping you apart.”

Pulling his head towards me, my arm slid deeper into his chest as he filled and convulsed and bulged. His jaw broke as I said, “Do you feel defiled? Do you feel tainted? So did Petra whenever you deformed her. So did Joan.”

Right as his asphyxiation ended, I squashed his skull like smashing a banana in my hands, his insides squishing between my fingers. His insides liquefied as I infused a stream of acid before draining his pulped insides. Like a spider sucking the insides out of a fly, the man emptied until a flap of his skin remained as I consolidated his soul.

The roots crushing against my chest proved tough as titanium and as pliable as putty, so I squeezed out of the trap before returning back into my normal form. Feeling full, I cleaned my exterior before returning back into the gate of Nelastra. The rest of that night passed quickly as I researched with Sophia at Solomon’s place.

Though we didn’t enjoy one another’s company, a begrudging respect had formed long ago, so we silently studied. There are times for talking. That was a time for taciturn work. We needed golems of greater efficiency not just for our own ends, but for Aether as well. If we understood them well enough, then perhaps we would have the capacity for restoring Aether’s senses.

With these far off goals in mind, we dived into our work with vigor. Before I either of us realized, Solomon’s snoring ceased. She and I debated over the practical applications of a unique material construction as Solomon stepped out from his room with his armor already on. He glanced over towards us as he said with his booming voice,

“Did either of you sleep? It’s the break of dawn.”

Sophia and I froze before I we turned towards him. A tension cropped up in the room as Sophia and I realized how precarious our position was. If I spoke, Solomon would know I was someone else besides the Jericho he knew. On the other hand, Sophia was an atrocious liar. She could squeeze blood from a stone with the will of her mind, yet she couldn’t tell a fib to one. She needed time and preparation for lies, otherwise she fell flat.

So we stood there for a silence that scorched like molten metal and ached like stepping on stone. Right as we reached the edge of Solomon’s patience, Joan opened her door before yawning as she stretched. We glanced towards her before she walked over and said,

“It’s rare I wake up without a kiss.”

Solomon turned towards her and said, “Would you have guessed it, these two were hunched over a paper like scribes whenever I awoke. What do you make of it?”

She shrugged as she said, “Eh, Sophia always said she worked better in the morning and when she has someone to bounce ideas off of. I’m guessing that’s what they're doing.”

Sophia snapped, “That's exactly it. You know me so well.”

Sophia cringed at her fumbling words, but Joan caught them and propped them back up as she said, “Well duh. We’ve known each other for years now.”

A blush beamed onto Sophia's face before Joan jumped towards her and hugged her as she giggled. With a begrudging grin on Sophia’s lips, Joan said, “Dahhh. You’re just adorable when you’re embarrassed.”

Solomon placed an armored hand on my back before he said, “It’s wonderful to see such heartfelt friendship. It makes me feel so young again.”

I nodded without saying a word. I respected Solomon’s intelligence. Jack and I are different enough that he’d have noticed after a couple words. With that in mind, I said,

“I forgot an item in my room. I will be back momentarily.”

Solomon replied, “I’ll get breakfast ready. I always start my day off with something I love, and the most convenient thing for it just so happens to be food.”

I motioned my hair back as I said, “Considering your size, it’s no surprise.”

He nodded before slapping my shoulder as he said with a chuckle, “Same for you, Jericho.”

As I walked away, Solomon spoke with Joan, “He’s got a bite in his words, doesn’t he?”

Joan replied, “He’s just not a morning person. Just steer clear of him until he really wakes up.”

As I closed the door, their voices muffled and I resolved myself to thank Joan later. She’s as quick with her words as she is on her feet, so despite the sudden surprise, she maneuvered with her usual grace.

With that situation handled, I waited within the room for Jack’s awakening. I tested and measured the soul keeping abilities of several fire opals before he stirred from his slumber, brimming with energy. At that time, I disclosed with how the events of the night unfolded, but I glossed over the details of the killing. I knew he wouldn’t react well.

No, Deluge. I wouldn’t. I just don’t understand why you would do that. What meaning is there behind it?

I needed a test subject for ensuring the technique’s success. It worked well later on, didn’t it?

I suppose, but you could’ve done so in a more humane manner, though I can’t blame you for your ruthless abandon. They deserved as much after the cruelties they committed. In fact, those precise thoughts stormed and stomped and stabbed into me as I awoke that day.

After Deluge had informed me of the tribe’s condition, those forgotten feelings flared before I shook the wrath from my shoulders. Now was not the time for a rampage. That carnage would come later, when we needed the remnants.

With that rude waking, I started the day. That irritation melted as I met Joan and Solomon chattering like old gossips as Solomon cracked eggs over a skillet over a pan with rubies underneath them. As I approached, I said, “Ah, I feel better after collecting my thoughts.”

Joan rolled her eyes before she said with an impish smile, “I didn’t know you had those.”

Without skipping a beat, I pulled her towards me, my arm around her waist as I said, “I was thinking thoughts of you, and how glad I am to be together.”

The slightest tinge of red appeared on Joan before I she and I locked lips, treasuring the experience. Solomon whistled before saying, “You both are hotter than rubies from the get go. Don’t mind me.”

I chuckled as Joan reddened further before I said, “Bah, stop teasing us so much Solomon. Love is like well aged wine. You can drink it like cheap ale for only the intoxication and fire in your belly, or you can cherish each and every sip, relishing its flavors.”

Sophia said, “You just sound drunk to me.”

Solomon burst into laughter before he said, “Enough with the metaphors. You have hard day ahead you, Saint Jericho.”

I raised an eyebrow as I said, “How so?”

“Remember the meetings for your responsibilities? I’m sure they’ll be trying, to say the least.”

I pursed my lips before I said, “I mean no disrespect for you, but they seem content with your guarding of the palace, which seems like a simple requirement.”

Solomon shook his head before saying, “You’s will be nothing like mine. I’ve been a Saint for hundreds of years, so they let me be. You’re fresh blood so to speak, so they’ll work you to the bone. I know you’re looking forward to it. I did when I first became a saint.”

I frowned before saying, “I became a saint offhand, if that makes sense.”

“What, offhand? How did you manage that?”

Her tone mocking, Joan replied, “He just felt the echoes of the wind pushing him onward into the future.”

This time my skin flushed ever so slightly before I said, “Come now. I just heard Gaia’s voice. I had no choice but to follow the call.”

She nudged my side as she said, “Sounds saintly.”

With a playful sort of sulking, I replied, “You followed me though.”

I released her as she chuckled and said, “Sometimes I think I’m crazier than you for doing so.”

I walked towards her as I said, “I like that kind of crazy.”

Sophia interjected, “And I can only stand your constant flirtation for a few minutes before I’ll go crazy myself.”

Joan and I glowered before she added, “I didn’t mean to chide you or anything. It’s just you both go into your own world if you talk to each other for too long. Just try to be more mindful.”

Solomon brushed her off as he said, “Now Sophia, correct me if my old eyes are wrong, but you almost sound jealous.”

Brilliant as a torch surrounded by black, Sophia flushed red as an apple before she snapped like fire, “And you sound blind. They should call you Solomon the sightless.”

We burst into laughter before I supported Sophia’s words, “That was well said.”

Solomon added, “You had a bite in your words earlier, but she’s got a stab in hers. It’s refreshing compared with the trite frivolity of normal nobility.”

Sophia scowled as she said, “I like how you don’t take everything someone says so seriously like most older people.”

He pushed eggs onto a plate before dropping salted bacon onto the platter as well, the sizzling scent overtaking all else as he said, “It’s not something spoken about, but the elderly have a way of nagging all the time. I had a phase like that for a few decades, but it eventually passed. Now I realize how little words matter. It’s the feelings behind them that you should pay attention to.”

That friendly conversation continued, and like a bat flying out of hell, the morning passed quicker than I’d like before Solomon and I set out towards the king. This time, I would meet with the real ruler instead of Albus, a fact I appreciated considering Albas's disdain. We went through an alternate doorway tucked at the side of the monumental doorway this time. I appreciated the subtlety.

Walking with both our footsteps thumping the ground like two titans, we attracted more than our fair share of attention. Of course everyone knew who Solomon was, and he received a throng of thoughtful compliments and gestures. Due to my gruff, brooding presence, they offered other, less cordial emotions for me. A sneer, a scowl, perhaps even a snarl from some of the unhelmed guards. At the very least, I felt welcome there. That coldness, I’ve come to enjoy it, like the taste of a strong brew. It grows on you, even when you’re unaware of what’s growing.

The scenery assisted with their obvious disdain. Vases, paintings, and pedestals lined the every hallway. Thoughts raced in my mind such as, “Wow, I really shouldn’t be here,’’ or “Damn that’s expensive.” Crude observations can result in apt descriptions. This was one of those times.

I was a dog covered in mange here. Diseased and mad and malignant, the nobles saw an immortal saint holding a dangerous mercenary with a leash low to the ground. The beauty of this bastion juxtaposed the jeering, highlighting their scorn. Solomon noticed, so he said,

“Hmmm...I’ve never seen the nobles react so poorly to someone before.”

I glanced at a set of silver doors in front of us as I said, “It’s not unusual. I do give off an unsaintly sort of vibe, so I understand much of their anxiety.”

The bright lights beamed overhead as Solomon said, “I guess the cursed black warrior look has come back to bite you then?”

I grinned as I replied, “Almost as much as they’ve kissed your ass.”

“Hahaha, not even by half, but half of that excess is still quite the sum. Any ideas for why they dislike you so much?”

I place a hand on the silver handle as I slick my hair back and say, “Two reasons, Solomon. For one, I have a knack of being handsome as heaven and divinely dashing. For two, their envy leaks through their eyes.”

Though his helm guarded his eyes, the rolling of his head told of a vast rolling of the eyes, before he and I laughed as I opened the door. As I turned towards the room’s center, eyes like living death stabbed at me. Unlike Albas, this man commanded respect. Upon his throne of steel, he leaned over and carried contempt without the unrighteous ridicule of the others. He relished in his role. He embraced his burden.

Albas stood beside him while glancing with a decisive dislike in my general vicinity. He hated me, though I never understood why. It caused and created quite a few opportunities for me, however.

Whenever we walked up, we bowed onto a single knee and sat in silence. With a piercing, powerful tone, the king glanced at Solomon before saying, “Is this Jericho?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“He seems rather...dark.”

Solomon shook his head before saying, “He’s far brighter than many other saints I’ve seen. Despite his hardship, he has retained his humor and brightness, your highness.”

King Gabriel sized me up in seconds before saying, “He seems strong enough, but I doubt he’s very stable.”

I glanced with a grin as I said, “If I may interject, your highness?”

He raised an eyebrow and said, “At your will.”

“I am stable as stone, and strong as steel. I’ve heard the call of Gaia, and as she whispers revelation and rapture in my ear, I will crush calamity and break bane and bone in her name.”

Albas replies, “Oh really now?”

I glanced up at him and said, “Without doubt.”

Albas glanced towards his father as he said, “Why don’t we have him prove his claims?”

The king frowned as he leaned closer to Albas and said, “I’m more surprised with his words then his brawn. He’s read the scripture.”

Albas rolled his eyes before saying, “Well we can’t have a saint weak as paper can we?”

Gabriel pursed his lips as he said, “Quite right. Well then...What was your name?”

Solomon said, “He is Saint Jericho, the juggernaut. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

A puff escaped my lips before Solomon nudged me with his plated shoulder. I couldn’t help it. The title seemed so ludicrous, like the daydreams of a child. Albas argued with Gabriel, so they never noticed my slip.

In a sudden shift of atmosphere, Albas shouted, “Who cares if he talks fancy. I won’t accept some random guy walking in here like he owns the place.”

My insides knotted as I cringed. The true brat broke free from his restraints, and just hearing the temper tantrum hurt worse than a sharp slap to the temple. Solomon laid his head in his hand as Gabriel said,

“Alright, what about a friendly spar between Solomon and Jericho. If he can last thirty seconds then he should more than fulfill your expectations.”

Albas replied, “That sounds wonderful. Thank you galy.”

Solomon cupped his head in his other hand before I physically winced at the nickname. Solomon spoke of Alba’s spoiling as if it weren’t a glaring issue. It proved as perilous as a plague and bitter as wormwood bark. Begging for release, I said,

“That sounds...wonderful. Then if that is all, I should go meet the pontifex.”

Gabriel turned towards me and said, “Hold yourself for a moment there, Jericho. I’ve an offer for you, if you’d like to hear it. I believe it will be quite lucrative.”

I tapped my knee as I said, “Ugh, that won’t be necessary.”

Solomon slapped my back as he said, “Of course it won’t be necessary, but Jericho understands your unending generosity, so he pointed that out.”

My jaw gaped in open dismay as I glanced at Solomon, wordless with astonishment. One of my eyes twitched before Gabriel said, “I wish for you to report to me off the workings of the palisade. Though the Darkened One is a looming threat, they’ve started doing things that shouldn’t ever be thought of let alone done.”

A pang of heated hostility altered my expression into a serious one before I said, “Gladly, I accept.”

“Excellent. The spar will take place in the next hour. Be ready by then.”

Solomon stood as he said, “Is that not at least a little ridiculous?”

Albas snapped, “He’s going to be a representative of Gaia. He should be ready for at least that much.”

I stood before saying, “Of course.” I turned towards Solomon and said, “Hazing is regular practice, Mine happens to herald a greater hardship than the others. Let it be.”

Solomon sighed before saying, “Then would you prefer an armed spar or unarmed?”

I shrugged as I said, “Bring what you will. I fight unarmed, always.”

Solomon frowned, “You may one day end up with with no arms to fight with if you do so.”

A grim grin grew on me as I said, “What hasn’t killed me has only made me stronger. Besides, you won’t always have a weapon on hand.”

“Neither will you always have hands to fight with.”

I placed a hand on Solomon’s shoulder as I said, “Let me hold my faith in this. Perhaps you will as well after our battle.”

Solomon shrugged as he replied, “You’ve come this far using your own methods. I won’t stop you now, but I worry for the state of your body afterwards.”

Albas laughed as he said, “So you’ll fight him with your hands? What a joyous occasion this will be.”

I turned towards him and replied, “I pray for such an outcome.”

With that, Solomon and I left towards the entrance from where we came. A steely quiet settled between us as we walked, Solomon’s characteristic chattiness having been suppressed. Instead of reveling in the conflict, he moved with heavy, leaden steps as we traveled towards the closest arena near us.

As we left the palace, we walked for less than five minutes before reaching a set of Academy gates. The name etched on the blackened steel brought back a medley of memories, each of them feeling like a deep cold that seeped into my bones. The icy burn swelled as I read, ‘Saint Petra’s Academy for Prodigies’. They’d declared her a saint and set up this school in her honor.

Instead of dissuading the writhing wrath in my chest, the symbol spurred that searing rage. It revitalized the cold anger, melting that arctic ice until that acrimony beat through my veins like molten magma. Before erupting to the surface, Solomon opened the gates as he said,

“It’s odd that we’ve gained two Saints over the passing of a single year. I knew Petra whenever she was child before her parents were killed by a flesh vipers. That forged her into a person tougher than granite and as hard to hug as thorns. It’s a shame she passed away while fighting the Darkened One.”

I frowned as I swallowed the rampant rage in my chest like bitter medicine as I said, “Did you ever meet any of her family?”

He pursed his lips as he said, “It’s a strange thing, the Huxley family. They remind me of the Donovans with how harsh they are on their youth. They have high expectations, but unlike the Donovans, they only do so to those with talent only. Petra proved more than just talented. She was a complete prodigy. I like the name of this academy. It suits her legacy.”

I grit my teeth before saying, “What happened at Mareovosa?”

Solomon turned towards me before saying, “Did you lose loved ones during that tragedy?”

I nodded before he placed hand on my shoulder as he said, “It’s alright, son. I lost family as well. Two of my grandchildren died there.”

The grinding of my teeth sounded over our thumping steps as Solomon lowered his head and said, “They were Francis and Malakai. Francis had this way of bullying anyone she liked while Malakai could inform you of anything you wanted to know about alchemy.”

I squinted my eyes as I said, “Francis? I think I’ve met her before. Was she pale with orange, fiery hair?”

Solomon turned towards me and said, his voice sad and sullen, “That was probably her. She always pushed herself so hard to live up to my name. She hated living in my shadow. She promised me she would overcome it.”

I nodded as we walked into a familiar sanded pit with pieces of glass melted on the surface. Unlike at Mareovosa, a tent covered overhead. Sapphires cooled this area, just as with the Donovan’s mansion, and several tiers of seats formed around the area. Nelastra bathed in chaining so thoroughly that the practice devolved into sport instead of a means of defense.

The fact stung like a hornet, but destroying the place would have result in the detonation of several of our plans, so we abstained. Solomon and I warmed up with a series of exercises as crowds poured in, though far fewer would see our fight than the one in Nern.

Professors, bishops, and nobles lined the benches before Gabriel and Albus arrived as well, each with their own fancy seat especially for them. Of course as royalty they needed everyone to know the fact at all times with their dress, their guards, and their seats. The lavish luxury disgusted me more than I’d like to admit, but I smiled with a pleasant familiarity before turning towards Solomon and shouting,

“When do we start?”

Solomon glanced towards the arena chief before saying, “I mean, whenever you are prepared...You know it’s fine if you wish to back down. No one will think any less of you if you do so.”

I rolled my eyes before saying, “I would think less of myself, as would the honor of my word.”

Solomon squirmed in his armor before saying, “Alright. Since you decided to fight without weapons, so shall I.”

I nodded before saying towards Albas, “I dedicate this fight in your honor, Albas.”

He brushed his hand as if shooing away a dog as he said, “Do try not to tarnish it, will you?”

I turned towards Solomon as I said, “Then I am ready now.”

Solomon’s shoulders slacked before he sighed and spoke, “...Then we may begin.”

My foot slammed into sand, spraying the grit in all directions with an explosion of force. The cool air rushed across my skin as my heels puffed against the loose rock underneath me before the massive figure of Solomon stood in front of me.

Unlike a few seconds prior, his gleaming armor altered from a saintly shine to an impenetrable fortress. The horns jutting back from his head proved his prowess, and silver scales on his armor bared against me like an armor of teeth. Instead of bending his knees and preparing for my arrival, he stood tall, towering overhead with an absolute confidence formed from countless victories.

Instead of fighting a man, I fought against a literal force, a fundamental power of our existence. His steps quaked the earth. The clamping of his hands clapped the air. For a second, I swear his breaths could of created storms that roared in the far reaches of the world. You’d imagine the illusion would wilt my fervor. No, I embraced it.

My blood beat in my viens, half adrenaline and half fear. My skin screamed and crawled as I neared him, as if hoping for escape, but I put a mentally made wall behind me. There would be no escaping this. I needed every fiber of will and piece of power in me for this. If I fought with a half hearted resolve, Solomon would obliterate me like a tsunami swallowing a beach.

Whenever I neared him, he threw a slap towards me with his right hand, heavy and hard as a brick across the temple. Instead of dodging, I lifted my left shoulder while pulling and torquing my right arm towards him. His blow slid up my and over my shoulder, scraping my face ever so slightly before I stomped into the ground with both my feet planted as if standing on stone.

Force fired and fueled and fed up my through my heels then hip then hands until my right fist wobbled as I struggled containing the power behind it. Like two cannonballs colliding, my fist clapped against his silver scaled armor. A sound louder than a mountain splitting shot a wave of wind through the room before the torches blacked out.

The gems powering the iridescent fires ignited before a second had passed, but the giant dent on the side of Solomon’s armor and his stumbling frame created their own shockwaves before I said, “I’m ready for way, Solomon. Be ready for the same.”

The suffocating silence accentuated the unearthly display of strength. The noble’s jaws gaped open, a few of them drooling. Solomon stood back up before his the indention in his armor inflated back to its previous perfection. He slammed his fists together before saying,

“It’s been a long time since I’ve faced a youth with something to prove. Show me what you have hidden, Jericho the Juggernaut.”

With a wild and frenetic grin, I lowered myself before I bolted towards him like lightning. As I approached, Solomon stomped the ground, rumbling the ground while shooting sand towards me like an explosion of tiny needles. Instead of rushing through them, I leapt into the air, but Solomon grabbed my foot before slamming me into the sand with a strength overcoming that of Petra.

My body convulsed as bones broke and skin split. My brain bounced in my skull as my vision fuzzed with disorientation. Solomon slung me overhead, shifting my vision with a rapid change in scenery once more before I collided with sand once more. He did so several times spinning me around and flinging me through the air like a ragdoll.

Slamming into the marble lining of the arena, the white rock crushed and crumbled as my body sunk into the mineral. Those above me yelped in terror before lowered his hands and said,

“Are you alright?”

I gripped my hands into the marble before shooting myself from the makeshift prison as I said, “Never better. Let us continue.”

Solomon laughed before charging towards me. He lacked the lithe agility of Petra or Joan, but even I feared his feet and fists. If not for Deluge’s regeneration, I’d be dead already, but I’d expected as much.

I’d fought fiercer foes, however. Aether’s endless stamina and utter strength overwhelmed Solomons. Joan’s techniques proved sharper, and Razor’s melding of defense with offense made Solomon’s position seem frail in comparison. He was no unending and supreme power like Aether. He was not a storm of blades like Razor. He was a man, and like all other men, he could bleed. He could break.

With that resolve, I met his charge with my own as he shot out a palm from over overhead towards my chest. I scooped under the blow before his leg dragged behind him, and in a feat defying his hulking stature, his foot arced over his head. Like a trained dancer, the fluid movement shot down towards my back like a guillotine towards a man’s neck. The elegant appearance of the move contrasted with the devastating impact the blow promised.

Realizing that earth shattering potential, my feet shifted faster than flight and stable as stumps before I tackled into his other leg and lifted with all my might. Before his heel chopped through my chest, I met my limits before breaking them. Sweat steamed off me as my insides heated from the exertion, and the burst of effort snapped bones in my fingers, yet Solomon went up.

Like lifting a glacier, my back roared for release. Like moving mountains, my heels howled for freedom. As if wielding the world, a part of my mind moaned at the burden, yet I clobbered the suffering. Trampling my own emotions underfoot, I stampeded through the parts of myself that were weak and weary and exhausted. Like a man, I measured my mettle and mangled my might.

And so Solomon raised from the ground, turning his blow from a symbol of death into a limp leg. Solomon’s gasped as my knees wobbled before I flung with all the force of my body. Solomon flipped through the air before I blitzed like a bullet towards his head. With a ripping, raging roar, I crushed my fist into the side of his helmet, my arm carrying a deep desperation as it concussed into his head.

Breaking bones and mushing metal accentuated the deafening boom of the blow. Solomon gyrated with a rapid rotation before slamming into sand, sending a wave of beads in all directions. The ground bounced and waved as it absorbed the impact, and torches wavered before Solomon stood almost immediately before slinging his fist into my stomach.

Nothing like the slap of before, the punch pounded into my chest, rupturing organs and snapping my spine. Denser than lead and ruthless as death, the punch shot me through the air like a diving eagle. I shot through the tent overhead as I rose into the air, higher and higher still. Searing heat stabbed into my chest as the tiny pieces of friction built on my back.

As I reached the apex of my height, I stared down at a wondrous view of the surrounding buildings. Blood streaked out of my hands and lips. The rapid rise had pooled plasma into them before bursting my skin. The gargantuan indention in my chest concaved a foot deep, and my flesh split out my back, pink before blood found its way outside yet.

Before I fell, Deluge began regenerating the wounds levity left me. My steaming insides cooled as the cool air stole my internal heat. My spine snapped into place as my tendons and muscles popped and propped back into place. Little tendrils of meat forced my insides back into me through the hole in my back before I collided with the cobblestone road underneath me.

Rocks shot in every direction before sat still for a moment as a deafening silence overtook the street. For just a fraction of a moment, I let myself lay down. I savored that second as if drinking ichor and eating ambrosia, and after entertaining that weakness, I quelled and crushed that weakness as I pressed my hand into the red, wet cobble underneath me. As I pushed myself up, the crowd gawked in amazement as if staring at a fallen angel. A sickly, ugly angel.

Stumbling as I pushed forward, I dragged myself back towards the tent where Solomon laid on his knees with his helmet in his hands. Gabriel screamed as Albas, shouting obscenity after obscenity at the weak willed child. As I walked through the tent's entrance, I puffed my chest with pride before cracking my neck and rolling my shoulders.

Gabriel and Albas silenced as I walked up to Solomon and gave him a light, half hearted punch on the shoulder as I said, “Come on big guy. Is that all you got.”

He cupped my hand in both of his as he said, his voice shaking, “I can’t believe you...I didn’t...I’m sorry.”

I patted his shoulder, my hand clapping against the metal plate as I said, “Have some faith Solomon. I have my pride as a warrior too yenno.”

A puff escaped his chest before I pulled his knees with a groan as I in a grunt, “I think that’s about it for the spar.”

As he supported himself like a puppet on strings, I turned towards Gabriel and shouted, “Surely that’s enough for you?”

The room stared at Gabriel as he fumbled his words, “What? I mean, yes. Ugh. Yeah.”

Pulling on Solomon, we left the arena as I said, “You seem more shaken up than me. Let’s go see Sophia. She’ll cook you up something to settle you down.”

As we strode off into the streets, golems passed us while tall houses towered overhead. The sun beared down on us with her full strength, and after we walked for several minutes, Solomon said,

“Please excuse my seriousness during that spar. I unleashed my full power during mere spar with a child. I can’t believe myself.”

I rolled my eyes before I said, “Age does not determine wisdom. Neither does it give you the right to look down on me.”

Solomon said, “No, no. I didn’t mean it like that at all. I meant that I shouldn’t have-”

I put a palm between us as I said, “Ahhhh, but that is how I took it. AS the offended party, I set the terms for forgiveness.”

Solomon lowered his glance towards the street as he said, “Of course. I’ve added insult to your injury. What do you wish for?”

A glowing grin popped onto my face as I said, “I’d like for to stand tall and say with pride, ‘You pushed me until I approached my limits. It was an excellent fight.’”

Solomon turned towards me and said, “But that is nothing compared with the pain-”

“And I’d like you to act as if we fought as equals instead of treating our exchange as the trouncing of a youth. If you do so, I may give my forgiveness.”

Solomon ceased his walk before he said, “Most would squeeze anything they could from me, yet you just demand my respect. You are an odd saint.”

I frowned as I said, “And you are an odd immortal. You launch me through our arena then act as if you’ve murdered me with just that. I am Jericho the Juggernaut, not Jericho the spineless.”

Solomon nodded before continuing our pace as he said, “We should speak with Gabriel and Albas. I’m sure they’ve much to say.”

My frown deepened as I said, “And I doubt they have much I’d like to hear. Let them roast in the fires they started. I’d rather relax and enjoy the rest of my day than deal with them.”

Solomon nodded before saying, “Well, you still have the meeting with the pontifex as well, though I already sent a messenger for postponing the arrangement since I figured you’d want rest after fighting me.”

“Yeah, rest. I’m sure that’s how you worded it. I’ll show and shock them all by striding up uninjured.”

Solomon said, “You are covered in your own blood. We should get you cleaned and your wounds doctored.”

I rolled my eyes before we entered an inn, making sure it was comprised of some stone before I washed myself in a bath warmed with rubies. Of course Deluge reabsorbed the blood on my skin without any effort. I had no need for cleaning, then and now due to Deluge’s diligence.

Besides, my blood was and is dangerous. Deluge uses strange materials in our body, so we radiate an energy that causes the mutation of living flesh. This creates a malignant, life absorbing

So I completed the cleaning within seconds before I soaked in some water and left. Solomon saw me and said, “That was quick.”

I replied, “We’ve better things to do than wait on my bathing. If you’re ready, then let’s leave.”

Solomon stood as he said, “You sound irritated.”

I smacked my mouth as I said, “The water tasted strange here.”

As we left, solomon explained how the water filtered through a spring at the bottom of the barrier while several saints guarded the gap, preventing the horrors lurking underground from coming inside.

It explained the artificial taste. No trace minerals or stray bits of wood or algae. Just filtered liquid that Deluge said, ‘Sat in our stomach for less than a second before entering our blood.’ Ugh. Sometimes his wording made me wince. That was one of those opportune moments.

Having accomplished the cleanup, Solomon and I tread towards a building that sat at the side of the palace. Embroidered with bloodstones and streaks of red that weaved into complex patterns. I saw these as streaks and splashings of blood. The dome stood with pillars of lead and glass covering its ceiling with the pink glow radiating inside. I saw the pink of fresh wounds and new tortures. Smooth pieces of alabaster lined the doorway and doorknob, creating a solid, sturdy entrance. I saw bones and the leftovers of plagues.

This was the home of the palisade. I resolved myself after Petra died that I would kill every single member, down to their very last remnant and burning breath. They tampered with twisted operations and sinful surgery. They turned the university of Mareovosa from a bundle of life into a bloated, rotting corpse. They’d stolen the lives of those I loved and cherished and fought for. As if diving into cold water, my nerves set onto a knife’s edge as Solomon and I walked through the entrance.

The thumping of Deluge’s thoughts echoed my own as we met numerous entry men who applauded the fight between us. Several priests bowed while several passing nuns even giggled as we passed. With my sharp ears, I overheard one saying, “He has a nice ass.”

In the past thirty seconds, the palisade expressed a far more human side than I’d seen prior. The people here walked with the energy that comes only from having a purpose, a goal driving each step. The hallways lacked the same delicate embroidery of the palace. This place was no symbolic gesture like the palace. It was a machine built for the purpose of destroying the Darkened One. Being followers, the people here congregated around this purpose like ants over a squirming cricket.

On the surface, they appeared able and good and just, yet they hid a deep darkness right below the surface. As we paced deeper in the building, thick doorways hid their experiments. Just behind the layers of wood were giant splotches of blood painting the walls. Organs in the open air with the hoarse screams of tribesmen. Tendons and skin rearranged into abominable forms. These monsters would forme flesh around those husks. One of the doorways covered streaks of ground fingernail ebbed on the floor, ten lines leading into the abyss behind the wall of wood.

Yet Solomon passed without stepping within their depths. He never glanced twice at these doorways, showing no curiosity at what lay behind them. Ignoring the plight of the prisoners was by no means his aim. If anything, I believed he did so to prevent losing his control and sanity.

solomon clasped his fists with his absurd strength, his knuckles white underneath his gauntlets. As if he were made of moving steel, he shifted with every muscle tensed, his teeth grinding in his jaw. His right shoulder twitched at random, and despite having armor covering every inch of his body, just his haggard breathing and quelled quiet told me that he lacked any approval of this place.

I held none either, so we tread like two reapers through these dark hallways before we reached a doorway surrounded by redwood and cedar. Their smells engulfed the musty, stagnant air at that depth, and as we as opened the doorway, a set of laying sofas lined a wall with light pouring through a set of fire opals.

The room’s warmth and welcoming scent ushered us in as a robed man read a book of scripture as he lounged on a velvet sofa. As if standing on hardened powder, the sandstone underneath our feet scraped with each of our steps, and as we approached, a pair of avowed and azure eyes glanced our way. His thin lips led to a thinner nose while his cheekbones jutted with a pristine prominence. As he smiled, a slight gap in his teeth added a certain charm as he said,

“Hello solomon. It is good to see you.”

Solomon replied in an icy tone, “I’d love to think the same. I see you’re still going about with your experiments.”

With a visible strain, the man nodded before saying, “We must. The Darkened One didn’t steal a piece of Gaia. He drained it. Imagine a blighted future where he’s sucked the very life from our planet’s guardian. We cannot allow the death of our god. We’ve already spoken of this.”

Solomon snapped, “And we shall speak of it each and every time I return. I will never let you forget what you are doing.”

The man sighed before turning towards me and saying, “Perhaps our new saint will show more acceptance of the church's policies. Saint Jericho I assume?”

He held out a hand, so I took it and ground out my words as if speaking with a mouth full of broken glass, “It’s good to meet you.”