Reunification

by Timothy L. Cerepaka

  Chapter Four

  Mine dreams were as frightening and bizarre as the wildest tales of the story scribes. 'Twas like I slept in an iron oven, burning like an everlasting flame, with the groaning and clanking of the metal booming in my ears. My skin seemed to melt before my very eyes, like butter on a hot pan, but I could not scream because mine mouth was burned shut and my tongue flew above my head, circling my crown like a vulture.

  Even worse, strange creatures crawled along the ceiling, growling and howling like the wild dogs of the Fertile Lands. Some of them did not have eyeballs, while others only had fire leaking out of their empty sockets like a leak from a dam.

  Such horrifying visions made me cry out, which was strange, because mine mouth was still sealed shut. Nonetheless, I cried out, unable to believe what my eyes showed me, and I thrashed about until I rolled off the oven rack and onto the floor of the oven below.

  Yet when I landed on it, I did not burn into pieces. Instead, like the flip of a switch, I found myself lying on the soft mattress of the bed I had been sleeping on inside the Foundation, but it was nigh impossible to see because of the darkness of my room. I did not see any sign of those strange imp-like creatures, nor did I hear the oven's creaking and groaning anymore.

  That is not to say that I was well, however. The room was unnaturally hot; 'twas like a hot summer day in the Fertile Lands, though without the cool breeze that usually accompanied that heat. Sweat ran down my temples and a strong stink of smoke entered my nostrils, burning them and making me feel as though I was trying to breathe toxic gas.

  I pushed myself up on my hands and looked around at my surroundings more closely. The room was almost too dark to see in, but every now and then the florescent light bulb above would flicker on, giving me glimpses of what the room was like now.

  It looked essentially the same as I remembered it, except that a chunk of the ceiling had fallen at the foot of mine bed (explaining the weight I felt near my feet) and it smelled like smoke and fire, even though I saw neither. Lanresia was nowhere to be seen; not even her annoying speaking snake was present. This disturbed me greatly, especially when I saw that the door had been blasted off its hinges and lay, a smoldering heap, at the foot of mine bed. As for the camera, it hung loosely from the wires connecting it to the ceiling, though that did not disturb me quite so much as the way the rest of the room appeared.

  What had happened here? I did not know. Did remind me of a photograph I once saw, of a Xeeonite hospital room after a mad bomber had blown himself up in it. Only, in the photograph, there had been more blood and corpses.

  My body was so sweaty that it made my clothes stick to my skin like a second layer. I sat up, pulling at my sleeves and shirt to loosen them around my body and allow air to flow through, though the air in this room was so stifling that I felt even more sweat coming from my pores.

  It might have been wiser to simply sit back and wait for one of the Foundation's members to return and tell me what happened. Though I still knew nothing about what caused the explosion, I knew enough to say that this was not a normal occurrence down here. Unfortunately, I was unarmed and not certain how much of the Foundation's hidden underground headquarters was left, which meant it would be foolish for me to search for answers on my own.

  Indeed, for all I knew, the explosion might have completely blocked off all escapes routes from this place. Perhaps it had even cut off our air supply, which meant that I would soon run out of air and when I did, then I would truly die.

  But it was not in mine nature to simply sit back and let others act in dangerous situations. I had to find out for myself what was going on in here, even if there was nothing I could do about it. Besides, despite the heat making mine clothes stick to my body, I felt as though I could stand up and walk, at least, which 'twas all I needed to do.

  So I sat up and threw mine feet over the side of the bed, but when they touched the floor, I pulled them back up quickly. The floor was hot, almost too hot to touch, and I had no shoes nor socks nor boots nor any other footwear covering my feet. It burned with the might of a thousand fires, but if I was to find out what had happened here, I would need to brave it anyway.

  Gritting my teeth, I lowered my feet onto the floor again. It still burned hotly, but not quite as before. Maybe the floor was cooling or maybe I was just getting used to it. Or maybe—most likely—it was my own bravery aiding my feet in resisting the heat that had been left over by the explosion.

  Although, now that I thought about it, why did the floor burn if the explosion had not happened in here? 'Twas like someone had set the entire headquarters on fire, yet the flickering of the florescent bulb showed little evidence of flame anywhere. What a strange mystery.

  But before I went any further, I knew I needed a weapon. Assuming the explosion was the responsibility of a vile enemy, I would need to defend myself. Yet when I looked around the room, I saw no sign of any weapons I could use, not even so much as a rock to throw.

  Thus, I picked up the plaster that had fallen from the ceiling onto my bed. It was hot and crumbly between my fingers, which made me doubt it would be good for more than one hit, but sometimes all ye needed was one good hit to the head to defeat even the mightiest foe.

  With my trusty chunk of plaster at mine side, I advanced toward the open doorway. The closer I drew to the doorway, the worse the smoke became, though it was nowhere near as thick as it could have been. Praise be to the Old Gods, who must have somehow kept me safe from the worst of the smoke during the initial explosion, for aside from some scratchy lungs, I had not choked to death due to the smoke.

  No noise emitted from beyond the doorway. I peered through it and saw a long hallway stretching down both ways just outside mine room. 'Twas a dark hallway, though as with the florescent light in my room, a few bulbs here flickered on and off.

  What the flickers showed unsettled me greatly. Corpses lay in the hallway, ones I did not recognize. The corpses appeared scorched by fire, as did the walls and floors, which told me that the explosion must have come through here at some point. The combined stink of blood and smoke entered mine nostrils, making me gasp from the horribleness of it all.

  The corpses, from what I could tell, were mostly human, though I noticed an ape-like Rathonian that appeared to be missing its head. The explosion might have killed them … or maybe something else entirely had done so.

  For that matter, I could not tell if they were Foundation members or perhaps belonged to whoever had started the explosion. Considering how light the stink of blood and smoke was, and how cool the floor was in comparison to the floor of my room, I wondered just how long I had been out. Was it already the next day?

  Surely my fellow Knights must have noticed that I had not returned by now. Perhaps they had even sent a page to my bed to find out why I had not yet awakened, though I could not be sure even of that much, for mine sense of time was thoroughly off. For all I knew, I could have been sleeping for years, like the Heavy-Eyed Man of that old children's fairytale my mother used to tell me when I was little.

  In any case, I did not have the luxury of hiding in mine room forever. There were still many questions I did not have an answer to and the only way to find those answers was to move bravely forward, regardless of what threats awaited me in the darkness.

  Thus, I inched out of my room as carefully and slowly as I could. I was not moving cautiously out of fear, but because I did not want anything to jump me when I least expected it. In my younger days, I would always run headfirst into these kinds of situations, but several lessons from Sir Lockfried—my mentor—and a few beatings of his had removed that habit from me fairly quickly. That I lacked any shoes also made it prudent to go forward only cautiously, for I did not wish to step on anything that could draw blood or stick into mine feet.

  Still, it seemed like the hallway was abandoned, as though whoever had come through this way was long gone. I might very well be the only living thing down here; 'twas a disturbing and unsettling thought,
even though it meant that I did not need to be quite as cautious as before.

  I did not know which way might take me out of the Foundation's headquarters, so I prayed to Vilina of the Old Gods for guidance. I did not know if the Old Gods could even hear me on Xeeo, as they were said to live on Dela's moon, but I had to ask for her guidance anyway, as she was the goddess of travel and hence could grant me guidance in these matters.

  Whether it was mine own feelings or an answer from Vilina, I eventually decided to go to the right. I reasoned that if it turned out to be a dead end, I could just as easily turn around and head back the way I came, could I not? (Of course, if it turned out to be the way to my death, then I would not be able to do much.)

  So down that way I went. Although I was certain that there were no other living beings down here but myself, I nonetheless looked over my shoulder every now and then to assure myself that I was by no means being followed. I saw not a hint of anyone following me, not even when the lights flickered, but I still felt as unsafe as if I had walked into a den of vampires. That feeling made me pray even harder to the Old Gods for help and confidence, though not for safety, because there was no safety to be found down here.

  The first corpse I came upon was a male human, clearly a native of Xeeo, if his metal lower jaw was a clue. He lay on his back, his eyes wide open in shock, a gruesome sight even in this dark place. His skin might normally have been as pale as the snow; now, however, it was charcoal black, likely as a result of the explosion, though his hands appeared to have been cleanly cut off, like a butcher had removed them.

  'Twas his expression that most terrified me, for he looked as though he had died viewing the most horrific crime imaginable. That his eyebrows had been burned clean off only made his expression that much more frightening.

  As terrifying and frightening as this man appeared, I could not help but peer at his feet, for I hoped he had some shoes I might be able to borrow. He looked to be about the same size as I, after all, so even if his shoes were some of those strange Xeeonite shoes that were more for fashion and comfort than work and wear, I might possibly be able to wear them anyway.

  But to my limitless disappointment, the soles of this man's shoes had been turned to ash, revealing the blackened skin of the underside of his feet. Whilst I could still have taken his shoes off, 'twould have done nothing for me, as wearing those brogues would have been as good as walking without any shoes at all.

  I knew not who this man was, nor what he may have believed or what religion he may have practiced. Knowing these Xeeonites, he likely saw no use for any sort of religion, yet it did not feel right to me to simply leave him behind. I could not give him much in the way of a burial, as the floor was metal and I had no shovel with which to dig.

  Thus, I prayed another prayer to the Old Gods, asking them to guide the soul of this poor man into the next life. I knew not what happened to Xeeonites when they died, but perhaps they went to the same place as we Delanians. Or perhaps Xeeo had its own afterlife for its people.

  I ceased thinking about such metaphysical speculation right away, however, when I heard the sound of claws scratching against metal. What an awful sound; it made me shudder with revulsion just listening to it.

  But I could not tell where it was coming from or who was making it. Nay, the sound seemed to be coming from the walls themselves, though perhaps it came from one of the other rooms instead. I was hesitant to move forward any further, however, because my chunk of plaster did not feel adequate to deal with whatever was making that noise, even though I knew not what it was.

  The sound faded away soon enough, but I doubted that that would be the last I would hear of it. Part of me wanted to leave it alone, but another part of me wanted to go and find out what it was. Perhaps it was not some sinister creature hiding in the shadows, ready to take me down as soon as I dropped mine guard; maybe it was an innocent person, dying or in pain, who needed my help.

  Yet what time did I have to waste helping others? Mine largest priority was to find a way out of here and return to Dela, where I could report back to duty. Granted, I also still needed to find my sister, but knowing now what I do about her, I would come back some other day to save her instead. Perhaps on that other day I would even be strong enough to defeat Assassin.

  I took a step forward, but stopped again. What if this person—assuming 'twas a person, though it could have been a machine or perhaps a beast of some sort, though this did not seem like the kind of place where animals would be kept—could show me the way out of here? And perhaps also tell me what happened?

  Indeed, that seemed logical enough. This headquarters of the Foundation seemed as deep and complex as the tunnels beneath the foundations of Castle Una, based on the many doors I saw in the hallway in which I stood. In my mind's eye, I could see myself wandering through here forever before, perhaps, stumbling upon a smoke-filled room and then choking to death.

  Therefore, I decided to search for this individual, whoever it was. It may have even been a sign from the Old Gods, the help I asked for, though I had no way to know for certain and would not until later. Perhaps they even had some shoes for me to wear or borrow; it was certainly worth the risk, in my humble opinion.

  Hence, I listened as closely as I could, until I heard the claws scraping against the metal again. 'Twas slightly covered by the sounds of electricity sparking in the flickering lights, but mine ears were good enough to locate the sound some ten feet from where I stood, behind a door on the right side of the hallway. Holding my plaster chunk close to my chest, I stepped toward the door as carefully and silently as I could, ready to defend myself if necessary.

  Like the rest of the Foundation's headquarters, this door had no doorknob nor handle. Likely it slid open, but I did not understand how those types of doors worked. Never had any reason to, for I spent most of mine time in Dela and had only ever traveled to Xeeo perhaps three times prior to my recent arrival.

  I stood in front of the door and waved at it. Much to my surprise, the door tried to slide, but it made a strange groaning noise that made me worry that it would explode in my face. I held up mine plaster just to be safe, but after more groaning and sparking, the door ceased trying to open. Perhaps it was jammed, but I did not know how to un-jam it, if that was the ccase.

  I scowled. How dare this door act this way. Did it not want me to enter? Yes, I knew this door was likely not animate, but I was still frustrated by it nonetheless, for I felt like the key to my escape from this place was hidden behind there and I had no way to get it.

  Then another flicker of the lights above aided me in noticing that the door had opened slightly. 'Twas only an inch, perhaps less, but it looked like I could pry it open with my fingers, if I but tried.

  Placing my plaster on the floor, I walked up the door and stuck mine fingers in the gap between the door and its frame, whilst also finding footing for my bare feet on the smooth floor 'neath me. Exerting all of my strength, I pulled the door to the right, in the direction it appeared to slide when it worked normally. It was a difficult effort, a feat worthy of the great Jameles himself, as the door did not appear to want to budge from its place.

  Still, with some effort, I managed to push it open enough that I could slip through easily, and it stayed open, too, even if I was not holding it open. I snatched up my plaster chunk from the floor, though it crumbled slightly around the edges when I did so, and then stepped through the gap I had managed to widen between the door and the frame.

  How dark this room was! Whereas the hallway outside had at least the flickering florescent lights, this room had no light in it at all, save for the little light that cut through the gap that I had created between the door and its frame.

  What these occasional flickers of light showed was what appeared to be some sort of equipment room. On the walls were deactivated energy knives, some kind of Xeeonite gun I could not identify, and lockers with uniforms, though the sliver of light did not give me enough time to peer at them in any detail.r />
  I groped along the nearby wall for a switch, for one thing I did understand about Xeeonite technology was that they had switches to activate the lights in their rooms. Yet mine fingers could find no such switch to flip, which made me wonder if the switch had been blown off by the explosion or if this room had for some reason not been designed with one. Mine feet did not feel anything, either, though that was good, because I did not wish to stumble or step on anything harmful or dangerous, for mine feet were my only mode of transportation, without which I would have been truly helpless.

  In any case, I did not see or hear anyone in here, which made me think I must have been mistaken when I assumed that the sound of the claws scraping against metal must have come from this room. Perhaps they came from another room, or maybe I had heard something else entirely.

  Least, that is what I believed until two claws wrapped 'round my neck and squeezed. Alarmed, I slammed the blackened plaster over my shoulder onto the head of whatever had grabbed me, causing it to squawk in pain and let go.

  I staggered forward, rubbing mine neck, and turned around just in time to see a strange, birdlike creature crouching near one of the lockers. 'Twas visible only for a moment, when the light flickering from the hallway showed it; then it was gone, drowned by the darkness.

  Yet I knew that the creature was no trick of the light. I reached behind me and grabbed one of the energy knives from the wall. Whilst I did not like to use Xeeonite technology or weapons, when mine survival was at risk, I was willing to do anything that would increase my chances of living.

  And having confiscated these energy knives from more than one criminal over mine career, I knew to press the tab on the handle to activate it. When I did, an energy blade, made of pure skyras, flashed into existence, giving me a view of the birdlike creature again, which had not moved from where it had crouched before.

  The light of the energy knife gave me some light, though it was not much more than the glow of a candle. Still, it was better than nothing, and unlike a candle, I could use this to defend mine self in case this creature tried to attack me again.

  Looking at the birdlike creature, I was not entirely sure at first what it was. 'Twas humanoid, as I, but it had wings and feathers, feathers as golden as the sun on a summer day in the Fertile Lands, though they seemed grimy, as if the creature had been rolling about in the dirt. Its feathers were ruffled, too, and it stank horribly, like smoke and bird excrement, making me cover mine nose to save my sense of smell from its horrible assault. I was disappointed to see that it had no shoes on its clawed feet, though that did not stop me from hoping that it might have a pair hidden away nearby anyway.

  The creature's eyes were green, but they did not seem to be its natural color; perhaps it had had them changed, as I had heard it was a common trend in certain Xeeonite subcultures. Then again, this creature's eye colors could just as easily have been its natural color; my knowledge of Xeeonite species was lackluster at best.

  All I knew for certain was that I needed to keep my distance from this thing, at least until I was certain of what it actually was. Right now, I knew only that it was likely the source of those claws scraping against metal, for it had claws on its hands and talons on its feet.

  “What be ye?” I asked, making sure to hold the energy knife in a way that let this beast know I would attack if I felt threatened. “Can ye speak Delanian? More importantly, do ye have a pair of shoes I could wear?”

  The creature stood up to its full height, which was not much taller than I, and seemed not like it would speak at first. Perhaps it couldn't speak at all; indeed, I suspected as much, for it did not look capable of speaking any tongue I knew of.

  But then it rasped, in a low voice, “I can speak many languages, Delanian, but I prefer to speak in Xeeonish. It is more practical than Delan or any other tongue out there. As for the shoes, no, I don't. And there aren't any in these lockers, either, so don't try looking in them.”

  The lack of shoes made me greatly sorrowful; however, I did not show it. Instead, I brandished my weapon at the creature, for I still did not know if I could trust it, and demanded, with as much authority as I could muster, “What is your name? And just what are you, exactly?”

  “I'm a Checrom,” said the creature, gesturing at its wings. “We're a species of birdlike people that live on Xeeo, far to the west of Xeeon. And of course, I am also a member of the Foundation, which you have probably guessed already.”

  “I noticed you still haven't told me your name, creature,” I said. I narrowed my eyes. “For that matter, I find it hard to believe that a member of the Foundation would be hiding out here, rather than exploring the hideout to search for any of your surviving companions.”

  The Checrom shuddered and glanced at the door. “I would have done that, but I've never been particularly brave and I'm not much of a fighter. I didn't want to be killed. I thought I would be safer in here, especially with all of these weapons.”

  The Checrom gestured at the weapons hanging on the walls, of which I could now see that there was a far greater variety of weapons than I had first believed. Still, 'twas too dark for me to tell for sure how many and what kind of weapons there were; in any case, that was unimportant at the moment. For now, I had to focus on the current situation, as I still was not sure I could trust this Checrom.

  Then the Checrom's aquiline eyes darted back toward mine face. “Are you the Knight that was saved from Assassin earlier? You look like him. I remember Janrex dragging your bloody body into HQ. Thought you were already dead, but I suppose I should have had more faith in our doctors and surgeons.”

  “Indeed I am that Knight,” I said. “But why did you attack me when I first entered here?”

  “I thought you were an enemy coming to kill me,” said the Checrom with a shrug. “It was too dark for me to tell who you were for sure. That's the main reason you smashed that plaster on my head, right?”

  “Correct,” I said. “And I apologize for that. This place is dark and unknown and I could take no chances.”

  “Understandable,” said the Checrom. He grimaced and rubbed his head. “That plaster still hurt, though. It hurt more than I thought it would.”

  “Just be thankful that I do not have mine sword,” I said. “Otherwise, I would have split your skull open and exposed your brains to the world.”

  “Right,” said the Checrom. “Well, what is your name? You didn't mention it.”

  “Call me Apakerec,” I said, gesturing at myself. “'Tis the name I use when addressing non-humans.”

  The Checrom blinked, as if he did not understand what I said. “Why do you have two names like that? Why not just use one name for everyone?”

  “'Tis a common custom that all Delanians of every species adhere to,” I replied. “Ye need not know my human name anyway. Now, do ye know what happened here? What caused the explosion?”

  The Checrom rubbed the top of his head, sending bits of blackened plaster falling from its feathers. “I don't know all of the details, because I wasn't there when it happened, but an explosion happened in the Energy Center, where HQ's power is generated. We thought it was an accident at first, but then some of the other Foundation members reported seeing strange, lizard-like creatures crawling out from the wreckage, killing anything that got too close. Including, unfortunately, several of my fellow Federation members.”

  “How odd,” I remarked. I gestured with mine energy knife at the jammed, partially-open sliding door. “Did the explosion cause all of this damage?”

  “I think so,” said the Checrom. “When the Energy Center blew up, it sent powerful electrical charges through HQ's wiring system. That's probably what caused the power to become as erratic and unstable as it is now.”

  “How many people survived?” I asked. “Do ye know?”

  “I don't,” said the Checrom, shaking his head. “I hid in here because I wanted to avoid those lizard-like creatures, which I saw kill one of my friends. There might be more, or we might be the on
ly people in this place who are still alive.”

  “There may be some grim truth to your words, I fear,” I said. I nodded at the hallway. “Outside, I saw several corpses, perhaps your fellow Foundation members. They appeared to have been killed by the explosion, as though they had been burned by a dragon's fire.”

  “Burned by a dragon's fire?” the Checrom said. He sounded curious. “Odd. I didn't think the explosion caused that much damage. Are you sure it was the explosion?”

  “What else could it have been?” I asked. “Unless, of course, ye are suggesting that these lizard creatures can breathe fire.”

  “Who knows?” said the Checrom with a shrug. “Anyway, did you see any of those creatures or at least hear them? It's been so quiet out there that I thought they might have gone, but I didn't look because I was afraid they were waiting for me to come out.”

  “No, I did not,” I said, shaking mine head. “I did not even know they existed until ye told me about them. If they are as bad as ye say they are, then I am thankful to have avoided them.”

  The Checrom put his claws on his face like he was afraid. “You're lucky, but now I'm worried for the rest of my Foundation members. Those creatures were strong, much stronger than us, and I haven't heard from anyone else except for you.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” I said. I jerked mine thumb over my shoulder. “Grab whatever weapons ye want. We will find a way out of here and, if we find any of those lizards, we will kill them in cold blood, as they deserve for their crimes.”

  “I would rather stay here, where they haven't been able to find me,” said the Checrom, crouching low to the floor and putting his claws over his head. “Right now, this has worked out pretty well for me.”

  “Coward,” I said. “Do ye not want to avenge the deaths of your comrades and allies? Or are ye going to allow these fiends to escape without retribution or harm? Indeed, I ask, is this what ye Foundation members do, simply run and hide whenever there is trouble?”

  “I-I'm not a fighter,” the Checrom said, looking down at the floor, away from my face. “I'm supposed to be the janitor of the Foundation's HQ. That's why I didn't fight, because I'm not a fighter and I don't know how to fight.”

  The cowardly bird seemed to be telling the truth, but I said nonetheless, “Well, now ye have me. I shall help ye fight these monsters, if they are still lurking in the shadows like thieves. Still, grab ye a weapon; 'twould make me feel safer, knowing that ye can defend yourself if necessary.”

  The Checrom gulped, but then he stood up and snatched a laser gun off the wall. “All right. I don't want to hide in here forever, anyway. I want to find out if anyone survived the attack and just what happened here.”

  “As do I,” I said. “By the way, do ye know what happened to the she-elf named Lanresia? She was the one who spoke to me earlier. Is she still alive? I did not see her corpse in the hallway.”

  “I don't know,” said the Checrom with a shrug. “I remember seeing her going to fight the monsters, but I don't know what happened to her after that. Why? Did you like her?”

  “Not particularly,” I said, shaking my head. “She was a freak, with that talking snake machine attached to her waist. Still, she was the only face of the Foundation I knew, so I asked merely out of curiosity 'tis all.”

  “A freak?” the Checrom repeated that word as though it were the most awful curse a wizard could lay on another being. “That's not very nice. She needs that speaking snake of hers to communicate with the rest of us.”

  “That may well be true, but it is still an unnatural abomination, one I hope to the Old Gods to never wear myself,” I said. “But this is irrelevant. If ye are ready to go, then we shall go, and speedily.”

  ***