《Decide Your Fate Games - R.Malak》Chapter 4 - Ghosts from the Past - Part 3
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The brief silence that followed his statement was replaced by rumbling growls as the creatures spoke to each other in hushed tones, their golden eyes alight with distaste. But even as he considered asking them another question, the lead figure undid the straps beneath his helmet and tugged it free. The face of the demon that peered down at him, had long snow-white hair, high cheekbones, and dark green eyes. “I am Kilgorn, Captain of the Watch. What do you offer as tribute?”
Clutching the few possessions he had in his hands, he again considered what Kira had told him when a voice drilled into the back of his mind. “No! You promised you would slay him!” The piercing shriek, drove into the back of his skull as he shook his head, and screamed back, “No! I have what I need! Be gone from my mind, witch!”
The guards who stared at Gregor in stunned amazement for a moment dropped to their knees on the stone, and cried out, “Blessed be the mother! He hears her voice! She has finally forgiven us!” The echoing cries that reverberated throughout the chamber, brought tears spilling down their cheeks as Gregor gaped in incredulity. What in the blasted hells was going on? But before he say anything, the lead warrior grabbed Gregor by the arm, his green eyes pleading with him as he begged on bended knees. “Please, you must tell us what we must do. Can we finally return home?”
Too dumbfounded to even know what to say, Gregor blinked his eyes repeatedly, before her voice again invaded his mind. “Tell them yes, they can finally go home, but first they must do you a service. They must cleanse the temple of the false believers, those that would dare to disturb her rest. Do this if you wish to live.”
His teeth gritted in a dark scowl at the command, Gregor desperately wanted to scream at her. Tell her that he had enough of her bloody games. But again as he considered the situation he was now in, he knew he could not. He could not risk Kira’s life on the off chance that he was wrong. His connection to the sorceress was weakened, but he still could feel her at the back of his mind like a worm digging into the soil. More importantly to him, how would the demons react to the thought that he had misled them? As those questions and more poured through his mind, he could see fear begin to set in Kira’s eyes as the demons stared at him with a feverish hunger. Feeling their gazes like angry hot needles in his back, he eventually grunted sourly, “She says yes, you can go home, but first, you must do something for her. Cleanse the temple of the false believers.”
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And like a trance suddenly being broken, they leaped to their feet, and clapped their shoulders in celebration as Kilgorn cried out, “Blessed be the merciful mother! Hurry, my brothers, we must prepare ourselves for war!” He then motioned for the sluice gates to be opened. Its creaking groan slowly ground its way upwards as the demons hurried through a side gate that Gregor had not noticed. The voices he heard lifted on the other side, crying out, “it is time! Ready the sword! Ready the axe! Ready your spears!” So that by the time the gateway was halfway open, Gregor could see a swarm of activity as figures darted this way and that. But none of that compared to the labyrinth of a city that opened up before him. Unable to breathe for what felt like an age, he goggled at the thousands of demons that ran across gangplanks. Coming in all shapes, colors, and sizes, Gregor could not believe just how many types of demons there actually were. The weblike bridges that crisscrossed overhead were attached to hundreds of organic dwellings that looked like huge beating red hearts, while right in front of him dozens of boats glided through canals into a wide circular basin. The nets that were thrown over the side, dragged back large gray-scaled fish that fought to bite back, and all of things, children raced through the streets playing games he had never heard of. One child squealed with glee, “I am the Breaker, and I am coming to hurt you,” as he chased the others. It was all at once so familiar, Gregor had a hard time believing that any of this was real, when he bumped up against another boat. The fisherman on board was a tall green-scaled snake with a forked tongue and slitted golden eyes that flashed with anger.
Keeping an eye on Kira just in case there was trouble, he saw a glimmer of light in those silver-colored saucers, and a part of him began to hope again. He hadn’t realized it before, but he had begun to fear that she really was gone, and all that he would be left with is this husk. And although he knew he should still care for her, this was not his girl, the girl he had raised to be a strong, confident, warrior. Perhaps she was simply lost, or just tucked away inside somewhere, but he had to find her somehow. Maybe in this place, he could discover what was wrong with her, that is if he could stay alive long enough.
Coming upon a large wooden platform where boats were docked, he could see dozens of bowmen, spear warriors, and big brutish bearlike creatures form ranks within another immense sewer line that swung deeper within. Not sure where else to go, he guided the boat towards the nearest opening, when he saw someone waiting for him up top. Along with the gate guard Kilgorn, he saw an elderly female lizard with mottled gray scales, wearing dark brown robes, and a broad smile. “Welcome, Herald, we have long awaited your coming. I apologize for the poor reception, but we had begun to lose hope this day would ever come. If it pleases the mother, I would serve as Speaker for the Voiceless. I am Leyora of the Gamoron people. Be my guest, and welcome to the Last Hope.”
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She then gestured a wrinkled hand to Kilgorn, who rushed forward to help Kira out of the boat, while Gregor, easily bounded up to the wooden docks with a smirk. Be damned if he was going to be helped out like some poor mudsap. Still, he was beginning to question whether he should just have said no to the witch when Kira stood beside him, and murmured, “Thank you, Speaker, may the mother bless you and shelter you in her palm.”
The elderly lizard, who didn’t look much like she ever grew surprised, bowed her head low in wonder, and replied, “And you as well, dear child,” she then waved her arm towards the dark depths of the tunnel behind her. “Come, there is much that we must speak about. I’m told by our Captain Kilgorn that you spoke with our beloved mother.”
Guided along the busy docks where spindly limbed demons worked in drab gray clothing to gut fish, Gregor was beginning to realize that there was a hierarchy to these people. The less human they appeared the more dirt covered their skin as some of the demons paused to bow their heads to Leyora. Passing barrels that stunk of offal, rotten flesh, and innards, Gregor was hard-pressed to throw up his lungs. His casual glance around the sewer opening showed structures to either side made of mud, wood, and stone, which was very much unlike the strange red mucus he had seen earlier. However even Gregor had a hard time believing that anyone would willingly live down here, and he had been to places where the streets were rivers of mud. And yet these creatures had managed to do so. His gaze locked upon a pair of powerful burly bears, they grappled with each other in a ring, tossing each other aside, and taking blows that would fell an ogre.
Gregor, observing the brutal melee, eventually stated, “You do not believe that she speaks to me.”
Her golden eyes glazing over her shoulder at him in curiosity, Leyora replied, “perhaps you are who you say you are. Or perhaps you seek a means of passage through my realm and do not wish to pay tribute. Either way, I must know. The Captain in his eagerness may wish to start a war, but I prefer caution.”
Not really liking where this was going, he wondered aloud, “And how exactly do you intend to prove whether or not I’m telling the truth?”
Passing a gaggle of children that begged for food, Leyora slowed down and pulled out apples from her satchel. Brown, and rotted by time, the little monsters still snatched them away, before running off. Leyora, her face crumpled in a well of sadness, sadly shaking her head from side to side. “It should never be this way, our babies die young, our people hunger for food, and yet of all things that they have suffered, I do not wish to give them false hope.”
Leading them to a small well-built structure of mortar and stone, she brought them into a sitting room filled with smoke that heady scent that somehow reminded him of the Red Lands. Furnished with several chairs, incense candles, and a table. She took a seat on one of the chairs and nodded her head at him to do the same. With Kilgorn choosing to stay guard outside, Gregor had a feeling that this particular demon was not the true danger here. Even now, he could feel his vigilance beginning to fade as he unconsciously began to relax. Her voice, almost hypnotic as she dug into his mind, the lizard exhaled red smoke into the air, “It is said, when the Herald of the Mother arrives, they will answer these questions truthfully. For it is only through She that one can know the answer.”
His mouth gaping open and closed, he half wondered where Kira had gone. Why hadn’t she come inside with him? When the elderly lizard woman leaned forward, her golden eyes staring into his soul, “Who is She?”
Doing his best to hold onto his sanity, he mumbled back, “she is…she is…” When again he felt Sarsonel’s presence in his mind, but her voice was like a soft buzz. “She is the …tor.” Her words were complete nonsense.
What do you do?
Did she mean to say, “She is the Meteor?”
Did she mean to say, “She is the Traitor?”
Did she mean to say, “She is the Vindicator?”
Did she mean to say, “She is the Arbitrator?”
Did she mean to say, “She is the Creator?”
Answering the question quickly, Leyora smiled and intoned, “Blessed is her will for she has given us a place to call home. And what name has she bestowed upon her chosen people.”
What do you do?
Demons?
Dekaram?
Gamoron?
Darklings?
Answering her question again, the lizard released a deep sigh, her expression almost hopeful. “Good, and finally when will she awake?”
What do you do?
Enough of this foolishness! She dies now.
Attempt to reach Sarsonel again?
Search for an answer in the room?
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