Ughyaya

Early morning brought Ughyaya nothing except sickness. Memories of nightmares. Unwanted visions. The first light was filtering through the clouds, though it was weak. It was that time of the year. Thicker clouds and weaker light. But it’d pass. Jaio people would have to offer better gifts to help this miserable season go, though it wasn’t necessary. As one of the Chosen, Ughyaya knew things. Offerings were a part of the Jaio people’s history, they helped them facilitate their fears and desires. Ughyaya didn’t dwell on those issues. Whatever life brought he was happy to go with. Though, he’d have changed certain things about the mornings. I need to find out if other Chosen suffer similar ailments… carefully, of course, he reminded himself. It’d be disastrous to give away information about such weakness to others. Other Chosen would’ve come down on him like the warrior crabs at the wounded seal. Yes, yes. Best to step lightly. Regretfully, a visit to the demi-gods’ land was out of the question. It was a shame to remember, but Ughyaya abused their trust, and they gave him hints that for a time being he wasn’t welcome in Hals island.

He closed his eyes hoping for a clear head. But his foggy mind just didn’t seek lucidity, it seemed. Bollocks, I need a plan. I must find a way to stop these occurrences. He opened his eyes to a misty sea-line that was supposed to spread below. Instead, three figures were obscuring his sight. They stood close to the edge of the ridge. A long flight down there. They all were significantly taller than him… well one of them was extremely tall. Quite a man—wait—

“Who are you people?!” Ughyaya asked hoarsely. The morning air always made him sound ill. His eyes were still grainy from a tiring sleep. It did little to help his mood. Maybe that was why he needed a few more seconds to register facts. “What the hell you three are doing here? If you’re servants, then which Chosen do you serve?” This time his tone changed becoming harder and commanding.

“You’ll help us, human,” the huge man said ignoring Ughyaya’s question.

“Wha… what? Are you deaf? I asked you a question… answer—”

“Silence, fool,” a coldness washed over Ughyaya and he vomited over his feet. “This one’s weak like Indlan wine, master.”

“Don’t stretch yourself too much, I’ll need your full capacity.”

Ughyaya wiped his mouth with a sleeve, then stood up awaiting a command. The huge man, the giant. He was a king of some sort, and he had to be obeyed. “I am here to obey, master,” Ughyaya announced, though the men ignored him.

“I’m still capable of taking over a strong one, master.”

“I might need more than that, Allog.”

Allog bowed his head, then the second companion, who until now remained silent said. “If Allog fails, we can use my power.”

Ughyaya didn’t move a muscle, staring somewhere ahead above rising mists of the Great Sea. The three men left him continuing their conversation. To Ughyaya’s ears, their words meant nothing but mumbling. They returned some time later. Ughyaya couldn’t say how much time passed, nor he cared. They ordered him to show him the Bridge to the Jaio demi-gods’ island – Hals island. Ughyaya complied.

Jyial was one of the largest isles in Jaio country. Unlike the other isles, Jyial had a well-maintained system of roads and paths. Special care had been taken to ensure that needs and wishes of the Jaio demi-gods could be quickly fulfilled. Oh, yes… Jaio demi-gods. But even Jaio demi-gods stood below in the chain of command in a face of the giant.

Whatever Jaio demi-gods wanted was unimportant. Ughyaya had a new master. They left Ughyaya’s stone house and headed for the Bridge of Banyany. Stone houses of the Chosen were sparsely located due to the low number of the Chosen and large size of the island. There was also a privilege. The Jaio country had over twenty isles but Hals and Jyial were the ones that counted. All others were meant to keep the citizens of the country away from the Jaio demi-gods.

As they passed Ighi’s stone house — Ughyaya’s biggest rival — Ughyaya looked back as if afraid that Ighi might step out of his house and snatch Ughyaya’s new master, but the three men followed while Ighi was nowhere to be seen. Ughyaya made sure to maintain a fast pace. His new master cared for speed, so Ughyaya was obliged to deliver. Their small procession started to draw attention when the morning arrived for good. Segij approached them first.

“Ughyaya, who…”

“Send him away,” a cold command was issued from behind, freezing Ughyaya’s heart. Without missing a beat Ughyaya spoke to Segij.

“Leave us.”

Taken aback, Segij flinched.

“You cannot order me about!” he said, angrily shaking his golden locks. In other circumstances, Ughyaya would laugh into his face, but not now. Ughyaya’s new master was growing impatient. Ughyaya couldn’t say how he knew it, but he knew. He felt strong emotions radiating from behind.

“Make yourself scarce,” the command struck Segij who hesitated.

“We have no time, Segij” Ughyaya added, understanding his master’s haste. “Leave us.”

“You’re forgetting yourself,” Segij asked aggressively. “Demi-gods suffered you for too long. It’s time to cast you out of Jyali!”

All Ughyaya saw was a blur. He didn’t see Segij crash against the wall but saw what was left of him. It hardly resembled the arrogant Chosen anymore. The giant stood where Segij had been and beckoned to Ughyaya to move on.

“We’re too close for Efins to prepare,” the giant said.

With time, the stone houses grew larger, the surrounding gardens expanded with them, though some of those gardens lay barren — a sign of soured-relations with Jaio demi-gods. Whoever fell out of favor soon started losing their gardens. Plants just started dying off within weeks. None of the Chosen had any idea of how this happened. Ughyaya knew. Jaio demi-gods made things happen. This knowledge was the source of Ughyaya’s falling position amongst the Chosen.

Some of the Chosen stood on doorsteps following them with their calculating and cold stares. Others came out of the houses to get a better look. None of the Chosen showed fear. Only people around that didn’t stare openly were servants who scuttled about. The Chosen rarely even noticed their servants.

The last two houses stood a mile off to the Bridge of Banyany. These were the largest buildings found on Jyali and their owners were the most prominent Chosen and enjoyed close communion with the Jaio demi-gods. The houses stood on each side of the main thoroughfare that led to the bridge. Stone walls surrounded the properties for miles. Those weren’t typical low stone walls, but high and well-built, meant to stop trespassers. The road leading to the bridge was wide and paved with wide slabs of deep-sea granite. The house on the left, a massive four-story building belonged to Hyial, the Chosen who owned a fleet of fish boats and was a close friend to Jaio demi-gods. The house on the right was lower but spread over a larger area. There were rumors that Johana had built a massive underground or converted a cavern. Ughyaya was never inside any of these houses. Johana had a habit of inviting men to her mansion every week but Ughyaya was never invited.

There was a reason why these houses stood on each side. They guarded the entrance to the Bridge of Banyany.

A call went out and guards streamed out of both mansions, their hostility obvious. Ughyaya stopped in front of them. He didn’t fear them, he only cared about pleasing his master.

“Let us pass,” Ughyaya said.

No matter how outrageous was Ughyaya’s demand, the guards didn’t pay him any mind. Everyone’s attention was on Ughyaya’s companions, especially the giant – Ughyaya’s master.

Ughyaya opened his mouth to repeat the command when the old fart, Hyial appeared amongst the guards.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“My master wishes to meet Jaio demi-gods,” Ughyaya said, sensing a sliver of approval from behind.

“Your master?” Hyial hissed. “There aren’t other masters than the Jaio demi-gods and the god of depths. Who are the people beside you?”

“Hyial…” Ughyaya murmured.

“They’re on the other side,” the giant said. “We no longer have a need of the humans and discretion.”

“What?” Hyial asked, confused.

Something hit Ughyaya from behind and he didn’t see the dropping guards or Hyial. The giant offered them no chance to save their lives. They were killed merely by his will. The walls didn’t fare much better as webs of cracks spread on them.

Qaaulak

The Bridge of Banyany offered shade from a trickle of light that managed to penetrate clouds. Qaaulak wished to discover a way to make the clouds go away. He, like the rest of his brothers, knew better than that. This kind of sorcery had never been bestowed upon them. His plants would have to get on with what they could harness here. The continent was off the limit…

He started as the wave of Arcani’s magic washed him over, a strong one. He darted to his feet, searching for the source. Three hooded figures were walking across the bridge, behind them lay scattered bodies of guards.

Qaaulak didn’t bother with alerting his brothers and sisters. Every Efin was conditioned to sense Arcani magic, they sensed the outburst as much as he did. It felt intrusive and alien to Qaaulak. He naively believed that finding the remote isles in the middle of the southern sea was impossible for the inferior Arcani.

He met the three Arcani foreigners at the end of the bridge. He’d either stop them or buy the time for the Council of Storms, although he didn’t think he’d be bested. Qaaulak was the strongest amongst the Efin of this bloodline.

They didn’t stop or flinch at his sight, which he knew was a bad sign. Efins didn’t look exactly like humans. They were taller with almost a skinny frame, but formidable wiry limbs and strength to crush a rock with a hand alone.

The Bridge of Banyany was a living thing, built in the early days of Jaio country by the collective effort of Cultivators. Thousands of roots and branches embrangled and entangled into a long ravel that made into the bridge. Yet, the men behaved as if the marvelous thing was nothing new.

Qaaulak waited until they were close enough and made the Sign of Peace, observing their reactions. If they recognized it, it meant they were old and likely powerful.

“Yij Eon’s philosophy won’t help you, Efin,” the tall Arcani said. He was taller than Qaaulak by at least a foot. “Tell us where’s the shard.”

The Efin didn’t know what rocked him more, the fact that they knew the ancient name or the Efins’ most guarded secret. Either way, these Arcani were a real deal.

Collecting himself, Qaaulak announced softly but with a razor-sharp implication.

“This land’s sealed to foreigners.”

“Allog.”

Intrusive and foreign emotions slammed into Qaaulak’s mind and with dread, he realized his mistake. They weren’t all Arcani. Allog was the Awakened Spirit of Emotions. It became the war of wills as the Awakened Spirit sought to dominate Qaaulak’s mind and soul. It also meant that Qaaulak couldn’t fight as he had to keep a hundred percent of his attention on the mental assault.

The remaining two men didn’t bother with him and went ahead. Allog’s mental prowess was ridiculously strong and he didn’t allow the Efin to split his attention. But something needed to be done, other Efins required more time to come with a good plan.

Qaaulak couldn’t beat the Awakened Spirit of Emotions in mental warfare, so he threw his body at him. Allog was a mental powerhouse but physically, the Awakened Spirit was nowhere near Qaaulak’s level. While the Awakened Spirits needed magically potent bodies, they often deteriorated them over time. Allog had to be very old to be this weak. But unlike the Efin, the Awakened Spirit didn’t need to maintain absolute focus, and even thrown to the ground, Allog kept attacking Qaaulak’s emotions.

“You’re harder than most Efins I’ve encountered,” Allog said. “Most of them didn’t last a minute.”

Qaaulak knew that Allog lied. Some of the Efins were bestowed with a gift of truthsense. An ability to recognize a lie. Allog sought to enrage the Efin. A cheap and ineffective trick. Qaaulak didn’t hesitate, he darted forward, feeling rage building inside him. His attack connected but he paid a price. Allog managed to wound his mind enough so the Efin found it difficult to gather motivation to continue the fight.

They were after the Shard of Hate, the piece of the Nightedge itself.

So what?

“You…” he muttered toward the large Arcani.

“Faard,” the Arcani said.

Faard appeared next to Qaaulak quicker than the Efin’s eyes supernatural eyes could follow. He didn’t strike him though, he didn’t need to.

“Pain.”

Upon a light touch of Faard’s fingers, blinding pain exploded inside Qaaulak’s body. It wasn’t the kind of pain that was physically possible. It was pure magic at play here. Obviously, all that dispute became a distant thing as Qaaulak became one with pain.

He tasted blood and dust. In a second the pain shifted and became something else. An agony. Qaaulak couldn’t think. The entire world dwarfed in the presence of that agony. He wanted to die, wanted this to end now and for all. But it continued.

And continued.

It ended at once, after an immeasurable amount of time.

“I know you, Awakened,” Qaaulak said hoarsely when his senses returned. “You’re one of the Six Great Disasters.”

“Oh, good,” Faard said. “It’ll save us needless displays of powers.”

Faard looked at Allog’s body. The other Awakened Spirit wasn’t dead. Qaaulak wouldn’t risk killing an Awakened Spirit. Killing one did nothing but freed the spirit from the physical vessel. The spirit then pursued a new living vessel. Qaaulak didn’t know if he’d resist the takeover. He didn’t wish to learn it.

“Allog’s becoming a liability, master,” Faard said. His words carried an implication Qaaulak didn’t like.

“He deserves better than an Efin’s vessel,” the Arcani said, watching Qaaulak. Even hidden inside the deep hood, the Efin felt the weight of the stare. “I’ll give you a chance to save your people, Efin. Convince them to hand the shard to me and we’ll spill no blood.”

“You can’t defeat our entire tribe,” Qaaulak said defiantly.

“You misunderstand, Efin,” Faard chimed in. “My master isn’t negotiating the possibility of getting the shard, he’s offering you a chance to save lives. When we’re finished, Efin, this island won’t be standing here anymore.”

Qaaulak only needed to buy time. As long as they spoke it was all good. He didn’t see a hand that fell on his shoulder from behind. Faard moved too quickly. Suddenly, his vision blackened and pain consumed it all.

*

Unlike earlier, this time pain left Qaaulak slowly. He screamed and begged to end his life. Something was wrong, terribly so.

“I’ll fry his brain,” Allog said. “When I’m done with him, he’ll be a husk.”

Terrified, Qaaulak jerked his head in Allog’s direction when more emotions flooded him. The pain made him weak, too weak to resist the compulsion from Allog.

He failed and worst of all it didn’t matter to him.

“How can I serve?”

“I told you,” Allog smirked.

The Arcani moved and the rest followed.

Hals island was much smaller than Jyial but its tropical climate and lushness made it much nicer to live. Tall trees and thick foliage gave Efins a much-needed cover for the coming ambush. Certainly, an Efin watched Qaaulak’s encounter at the bridge and the rest of Efins understood what was approaching.

A wave of pain exploded from Faard. The Awakened Spirit stumbled back pressing his left hand to his right side. Qaaulak blinked tears out then saw a jutting arrow from Faard’s side. The Awakened Spirit gritted his teeth. Qaaulak turned his head to see his brothers and sisters standing with tautened bows aiming at the intruders. They chose death.

“Control yourself,” Allog’s voice cold as ice stabbed Qaaulak in the heart. But no “You are supposed to be the master of pain.”

“I am,” Faard grunted. The skin under his fingers started turning green. Delffian moss. A weapon against the magical creature. Efins cultivated life, but sometimes life itself was a powerful weapon. Faard wouldn’t die because it defeated the purpose. Deffian moss fed on magic, which made it a powerful tool against the Awakened Spirits and lesser Arcani. Qaaulak didn’t believe the Arcani behind him could be affected by it. Strong Arcani used the Aegis Field in ways that boggled a mind. The Awakened Spirits nor Efins could use the Aegis Field. The ability was exclusive to Arcani.

“Step away from our brother,” Ryallak warned. The leader of the Jaio tribe stepped out of the woods, tall and imperious amongst the other Efins. He was second only to Qaaulak in the art of fighting, but wisdom-wise, Ryallak didn’t have equal. None of the Efins showed any sign of fear. Would Qaaulak care, he’d be proud.

“What is happening…” Faard sputtered, wavering on weakening legs. Allog looked his way, seeing the moss spread on Faard’s side.

“That’s some nasty way to go,” Allog said.

“What’s this, Efin?” Arcani asked.

“Deffian moss,” Qaaulak replied obediently. “It feeds on magic and keeps a victim alive.”

Ryallak looked to Qaaulak with a mixture of anger and shock, perhaps wondering why the Efin warrior betrayed the tribe. Qaaulak didn’t see a need to explain himself.

“Sounds like a weapon to counter us,” Allog said.

“Tell them, Efin,” the Arcani commanded.

“Brothers and sisters,” Qaaulak said flatly. “These people offer you mercy if you give them the shard. Fail to do so and we all going to perish.”

“Traitor!”

With the sole exception of Ryallak, all Efins turned hostile toward Qaaulak.

“Silence,” the Efin leader bellowed. It got the Efins under control. “I don’t know what made you betray us, Qaaulak, it doesn’t matter. We’ve been charged with one task, which stands above our lives. We don’t need your mercy, intruders, because there isn’t a middle ground here. One of us must die. Now!”

Hundreds of arrows were loosened at the same time. All being infused with deffian moss. Efins weren’t as magical as the Awakened Spirits or Arcani, but the moss would still cripple them if a vital organ wasn’t struck. The more experienced cultivators could reverse the effect of the moss. Qaaulak wasn’t the best one though.

Allog’s influence vanished from Qaaulak’s mind. The Awakened Spirit of Emotions slammed his power in the gathered Efins. It didn’t matter, the arrows were in the air now. Qaaulak regained a scrap of control. But it was all too late…

A powerful gust of wind came from nowhere, sweeping the arrows from their trajectories. They dropped uselessly around Allog, Qaaulak, and the Arcani. Faard by that time was fully covered by the moss, turning him into a living sculpture. Qaaulak didn’t want to imagine the kind of agony the Awakened Spirit was experiencing, but it was due.

Ryallak shifted his gaze as if searching for something.

The gust…

“Ghum,” Ryallak eventually said.

And terror gripped Efins’ hearts. Many of the weaker ones had been struck by Allog’s mental wave and looked afraid now.

A translucent silhouette came to life between Efins and Qaaulak. Ghum, his name was well-known amongst the Efins. Ghum belonged to the ancient times when Efins fought wars against Arcani and other factions of Efins. The Awakened Spirit of Wind possessed almost unmatched battle prowess and an unkillable body. The only beings that could comfortably confront Ghum were the Elementari, but wielders of elements had been gone from this world for millennia.

“Ryallak,” Ghum said when his body fully materialized. He wore a plain white robe with a cape, which ends were immaterial and transparent. “I knew I recognized your voice. How long it’s been? Four thousand years?”

Ryallak had a naturally pale face, green hair, and the posture of a young Efin. The arrival of Ghum made the leader of the tribe look like a shadow of himself.

“Why are you here?”

Ghum glanced at the Arcani behind Qaaulak.

“I’m following the wishes of my master.”

“Since when one of your caliber called someone a master?” Ryallak’s eyes snapped to the Arcania and the Efin’s leader attitude changed. “What did the Arcani promise you, Ghum? I offer you more than him.”

“You misunderstand me, Ryallak,” Ghum said casually. “I don’t work for him. I serve him.”

“What? How?” Ryallak gave the Arcani another glance. And this time Qaaulak squinted at the hooded giant. How was he so composed? “This can’t be him.”

“Ull?” Ghum asked. “No. That monster’s where he belongs.”

“Then who’s your master?”

“Ghum!” Allog shouted. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Ryallak’s an old acquaintance of mine. Give us a moment, Allog.

“It’s a shame it must end like this, Ryallak. If you had a few Elementari with you then maybe we could call this a battle, but you aren’t and this isn’t a battle. It’ll be a slaughter.”

Ryallak roared, his blue robe flowed around him. With a motion swifter than Qaaulak was capable, the Efin leader drew a sword and attacked Ghum. Released from Allog’s mental assault, Qaaulak decided to go after his tormentor. The Efin rolled over to the nearest arrow with deffian moss. As he grabbed it, he channeled everything into one resolve. He knew that Allog was distracted and was slower than him. He aimed the arrow at Allog’s torso, but the Awakened Spirit sensed his emotions and twisted his body. The arrow managed to graze the forearm.

That was all Qaaluak needed, he glanced at Ryallak and while the Efin leader’s skill and speed somehow surpassed that of Qaaulak, it meant nothing in the face of Ghum.

Allog screamed, sending destructive emotions in mental waves. His forearm started changing. To Qaaulak’s terror, Ghum disengaged Ryallak and cut off Allog’s affected arm with a blade made of air.

Powerful emotions exploded in Qaaulak’s mind, but he received no time to compose himself. The Arcani stepped in front of him and with a casual backhand send the Efin hundreds of yards away, into the Bridge of Banyany.

Qaaulak groaned upon landing. He lived but his body was broken and mangled. What kind of monster was this Arcani? With that question in mind, Qaaulak was embraced by darkness.

The Arcani

Ghum was true to his words. This wasn’t a battle. Ghum’s air blades made a quick work of Efins. Their leader went down last and only after the Arcani questioned him about the shard.

“That sick Efin!” Allog snapped watching his severed arm. It was a patch of moss on the ground. “He almost turned me into a plant!”

“What are you going to do about Faard?” Ghum asked his master, ignoring Allog’s rambling.

“Without a spare vessel, we can do nothing to help him.”

“You know as well as I that we can’t leave him for the empress to find. She’ll know.”

“She knows by now, Ghum.”

“Does she know what you’re after?”

“Certainly.”

“You could tell me earlier.”

“It doesn’t matter. She has her own goals. If she interferes with my affairs, I’ll kill her.”

Ghum looked at his master, musing questions.

“Will you?”

The Arcani didn’t reply. His focus already shifted to the distant rock jutting from the water over a mile away to the south from the Efins’ island. The Efin leader called it the Temple of Hate.

Inside it was hidden the shard of the Nightedge. A weapon once used to kill a goddess. It shattered, sending splinters all over the planet.

“Go and check the traps around the temple,” the Arcani ordered Ghum. He vanished without a word.

Standing at the edge of the Efins’ island was enough to sense the radiating hate of the shard. Each splinter carried a powerful and destructive emotion, it was said to had come from the murdered goddess herself. Whatever the truth was, the Nightedge needed to be reassembled.

The water erupted at the mid-point between the temple and the Efins’ island. Gigantic jaws snapped with a thump. It produced a blow of air that fell some trees on the shore on this side. The other island had none, though some loose rocks came down crashing.

“What’s that thing?” Allog asked. “It looks larger than Aranteas from the Soaring Sea.”

“This is Efin’s doing. They’ve raised it to guard the island,” the Arcani said. He understood the basics of Efins’ magic. They called it Cultivation. Cultivating living things, shaping them to Efins’ will.

A figure materialized out of air. Ghum stumbled making a few unsure steps then came to halt. “This thing… almost killed me!”

The Arcani turned his head to Ghum. The Awakened Spirit bled. Red stained his otherwise pure white robe.

“It shouldn’t be possible to hurt you in the air form,” Allog exclaimed. “Not even Bluesteel can harm you in that form.”

“An alloy can’t, but a pure form can,” Ghum explained.

“Yes,” the Arcani agreed. “It seems that Efins have created something unique here. Ghum, blind it. I’ll do the rest.”

“You’re going to … fight?”

“It won’t be a fight,” the Arcani answered with a hint of amusement the Awakened Spirits hadn’t seen on his face in centuries.

Ghum disappeared again and a moment later, the creature bellowed in rage that felled more trees and cracked rocks. It gave chase after the fleeing form of Ghum. The Arcani shed off the hood and cape, revealing crimson attire worthy of a king.

“Let’s have some fun, worm.”