by Pirateaba
“Wonderful.”
Orthenon stared at his king. The twins stared at the King too. They gaped at him as if he’d gone mad. But that too was being part of a King, and he was used to their incomprehension.
“We have never fallen so far before. My kingdom and I have sunk to our lowest. How wonderful. It shall make the coming days, weeks, and years all the greater.”
The twins didn’t understand. But the embers began to burn, and Orthenon’s eyes flashed. The King looked out towards the balcony.
“What of those loyal to me? What of my vassals, those I chose to lead in my absence? Have they abandoned me as well?”
“Not abandoned, my king. But they were forced to bow or be broken by other nations. Even now foreign armies hold your lands and impose their laws upon your people.”
The King nodded. He swept towards his throne, and now the fire in him was fully lit. As he passed by the twins they shivered uncontrollably. What was happening? The old man they had first met was gone, and in his place something fierce threatened to burn down the entire castle. The King was far larger than his mortal shell. Even his clothing seemed to be brighter than before.
“Send word to my vassals. Tell them they have three—no, two days to dispose of the worthless dogs that would grind their pride to dust. They will rejoin me here with as many warriors and youths of worth as they can muster.”
Orthenon hesitated.
“I am not sure they would believe it is you, sire. And it has been so long—some might turn away.”
The King stood by his throne. He pointed down at Orthenon.
“Then tell them this: I await them. And I shall raise my banners and set each place at my table myself. Until they have gathered here, I shall not rest upon this throne. But let the kingdom know, and the world hear! I have returned!”
Orthenon touched a trembling fist to his breast. His eyes were blurred with tears, but he didn’t look away from his king for a second.
“Go!”
This time the King’s voice was a roar. He shouted again, and it was thunder. It echoed through the throne room, out the double doors, and reverberated through the entire city. The twins thought they felt the ground trembling.
“Let this nation wake from its decade-long slumber! Let every hand grab sword and axe! Stand, all those who still remember my name! Here me and obey! Rise!”
The last word shook the air. The twins leapt forwards and then stopped. They didn’t know what they were doing, only that they had to move. The King’s voice seized something inside of them and struck sparks in their very souls.
Orthenon raced out of the room. The twins heard him shouting wildly, and then it was as if wildfire fueled by madness consumed the castle. His shouting was joined by another man shouting—not in panic or fury, but with joy. It was quickly joined by more voices, men and women crying out and the pounding of footsteps.
From the castle the commotion grew and spread into the city. Open-mouthed, the twins watched as a man ran into the street, screaming and shouting wildly. The people he passed looked up, and it was as if they caught the same wild passion from him. Some fell to their knees, other wailed or shouted, and more began running throughout the city, or out the gates towards other villages.
Not a single person who heard the wild shouting was spared. The fire raged, and spread to every soul in the kingdom. A dull roar of sound rose from the city and every part of the castle. It was deafening, wild; rejoicing mixed with relief and sadness and hope.
It was the sound of a city coming back to life.
The King strode out onto his balcony, and the people shouted and the sound grew louder as they saw his face. He raised one hand, and the twins were nearly deafened by the noise.
He turned towards them. The light was fading, and the sun had nearly set. But the King glowed, and it may have been a trick of the lights or their imaginations, but the twins could swear the light formed a halo above his head. Or…not a halo.
A crown.
The King pointed at the twins.
“I have much to do. But you two. I will have you accompany me. You shall be my personal attendants. Bodyguards? Yes, bodyguards. I will properly train you to your role in the coming days.”
The twins gaped. They began to protest, but the King laughed. He listened to the boy speak, and then the girl, and shook his head.
“Hah! It matters not what you wish. Your lives belong to me.”
Again, they argued, but their words trailed off as they stood before the King. He looked down at them, surrounded by the dying glow of a sun and lit by an inner fire.
“These things you speak of. Freedom…? Liberty? Justice? Pah. They are not yours by right. If you would claim yourself, take arms against me. For I hold all these things.”
He gestured towards the city stirring into life.
“Know this: wheresoever I walk, and so far as my reach extends, I claim this world and yours as my own. So long as you are within my grasp, I shall rule you. For I am a King.”
He raised one hand and his voice became thunder once more. It echoed out across the city, and across a nation.
“Let the world take arms against me. Let the peoples of every race march upon my people, and let the earth itself open and the pits of hell spew forth. I care not. I am a King, and all those who would follow me are my people. I will not be stopped. The world is mine!”
The King spread his arms wide and laughed. The fire left the city and raced out across the countryside, spreading from person to person, bringing with it a single message. It echoed from every hill, in every street, and every heart. He shouted it from his crumbling castle at the heavens, and the word of it spread to every corner of the world.
“The King of Destruction, Flos, has returned!”
1.24
The darkness hides many imperfections. The nether shade conceals those who find the sun taxing and bright light an anathema. The faint light that is not truest blackness but dark shade where only faint outlines are visible conjures nightmares for humans and those related to their kind.
But some call the shadows home.
Two individuals stood and conversed in the darkness of a room. Exactly where the room was located was unimportant. Rooms had little meaning here, in the catacombs and endless labyrinth of passages.
One of them was female. The other was Klbkch. The female shifted and in the darkness her deep voice rumbled through the air.
“Do I understand you correctly, Klbkch? Do you truly call for an Expedition after all the folly that has resulted thus far?”
Klbkch shook his head.
“No, my lady. I merely request that a few of the Workers—perhaps ten or twenty—may be allowed to leave the city in my care. They would visit a local inn for several hours before returning.”
“Interesting.”
The word rolled outwards, rich, darkly velvet with hidden connotation and meaning. The female paused.
“Is this an idea of yours, dear Klbkch? Dare I hope that my Propugnator has changed so?”
Klbkch shook his head.
“I remain as always, lady. I regret that this is not my initiative. She – the innkeeper of which I spoke – she requested it of me.”
Surprise flicked through the female’s deep voice as it echoed in the cavernous chamber.
“She did? What species would desire the presence of Workers if not to work?”
“A human. And she did not ask for the Workers specifically. Rather, she was inclined to sell a foodstuff to our people. Acid flies. She wishes to earn money by gaining our business.”
“And this human is genuine?”
“To the best of my knowledge and ability, I believe her so.”
Again, surprise was the primary emotion in the female’s voice.
“You, Propugnator? You believe? Then you are changed, truly. What is the name of this human who has changed you so?”
Klbkch hesitated. He bowed his head in the direction of the female.
“Her nam
e is Erin Solstice, lady. And I believe—yes, I believe the experience may help further the Plan. At the very least, it would help increase her trust of our kind.”
“And why should I entertain her request?”
Klbkch spread his hands outward. They were humanoid hands, at least in that they resembled them more than an insect’s feelers. The same could not be said of the appendages of the female.
“Has the Plan changed? Do we no longer seek to improve relations with other species?”
The female moved in the darkness. Her voice changed, hissing softly in regret and frustration.
“The Plan has not changed, Klbkch. But we have. And not in the ways that we desire. No; the change comes from the Others. They have begun to question again the Plan.”
Klbkch looked up. His hands moved unconsciously to the twin swords at his waist.
“They question your will, lady?”
She waved a languid feeler at him.
“Not as of such. Calm yourself, my champion. My authority is undiminished. And yet. The Others move, Klbkch. They speak of sending out envoys, of raising an army.”
The male Antinium looked up sharply. The antennae on his head twitched.
“Do you mean to say they intend to repeat the First Experiments? If I may offer my counsel, that would be…unwise.”
She nodded in the blackness.
“Yes. But they grow impatient with time. So their foolishness may yet come to pass if something is not done. That is why I will allow this risk. Take twelve Workers. Let them visit this Solstice child.”
Klbkch knelt on one segmented knee.
“Thank you, my lady. I will not betray your trust in me.”
A great sigh echoed through the room, shifting Klbkch’s antennas as the air moved.
“Of that I have no doubt. But I need more than your loyalty. Klbkchhzeim of the Free. I must have success. Can you promise me that?”
He was still as he knelt before her. Then Klbkch looked up and shook his head slowly.
“I cannot. But I will try.”
“Very well. Try, then.”
Klbkch nodded. He stood, and began to stride out of the room with quick, light movements.
“Klbkch.”
He turned. In the darkness a large feeler pointed at him and a titanic shape moved.
“You must not fail in this task. Too long has the Plan faltered. If the next few generations should fail, I fear more will fall back into the old ways.”
Klbkch bowed his head.
“I will ensure that all goes well, my lady. Erin Solstice is not hostile to our kind. I believe she will be a positive influence for them.”
“Then go. But there is one more thing I ask of you.”
“Yes, my lady?”
“Ahem. These flies…how do they taste?”
“I shall bring you a sample, my Queen.”
“Good.”
—-
Erin was making a list.
“Okay, do I have everything? Let’s go over it again. Larder? Stocked. Check! Silverware? Lots of it, even if it’s not silver. Check!”
She turned and bustled over to another table.
“Blue fruit juice? Check. Four full pitchers and a basket of blue fruits.”
She’d stripped several trees in preparation for tonight. At this point, she’d eaten nearly half of the fruit in the orchard. Sooner or later she’d run out of blue fruit, which might be a problem. How long did it take for the trees to grow new fruit? Maybe Pisces would know.
“Acid flies? Check. Dead? Double check.”
It was almost sad how easily she caught them in her floating jar traps. Almost. Erin made sure they’d all exploded before she rolled them onto the grass. She thought the flat fish in the water were helping—they kept bumping into the jars trying to eat the flies. She supposed that they might one day break the thick glass.
“Great. Bathe upstream from the glass jars from now on.”
She should also probably put warning signs up. Who they might be warning Erin had no idea. A certain human necromancer stayed well away from the glass jars, and she wasn’t sure if Goblins could read. Either way, her list continued.
“Pasta? Wait, I don’t need any pasta.”
Unless Relc dropped by. But from what the Drake told her, he didn’t like Antinium besides Klbkch so that was an outside chance. Erin put a pot on the stove anyways. She could always eat it.
The lovely thing about being near a city was that you didn’t have to make your own pasta. Instead, you could just buy it from an odd Gnoll-lady who knew exactly when you were on your period. In other words, there were advantages and disadvantages to living near a city.
“Okay. That’s about it. I’ve got bread in case Pisces comes by, and I even have cheese. Lovely, smelly cheese. Possibly from cows. And I just bet Klbkch is lactose intolerant too.”
Her larder was fully stocked, her plates and cups were clean, and she’d even gotten out the chess board and set it up. She thought Klbkch might be up for a game or two—that was if she wasn’t busy feeding flies to her customers.
For a moment Erin had to put her head against a wall and wonder how she’d gotten to this point in her life. A girl from Michigan should not think it was normal to sell dead fly torsos to walking ant-people for silver coins. She was also probably ripping them off, but Klbkch seemed willing to pay whatever it took for the flies. He’d eaten six bowls before he’d walked out.
Now all Erin had to do was wait until Klbkch came by with his promised friends. He said they’d come by as soon as they finished with their work. Were they all guardsmen? Erin had forgotten to ask.
Someone knocked on the inn’s door. Erin turned and opened the door with a big smile.
“Hi Klb—oh.”
The group of Goblins all took a nervous step back as Erin stared down at them. The eight—no, nine of them clustered together and shoved at their leader, a small Goblin wearing rags. Erin remembered.
“It’s—it’s you. Do you um, want something?”
The ragged Goblin awkwardly thrust out a hand at Erin. She blinked down at the pile of dirty copper and silver coins in the small palm.
“Oh. Oh! You want to eat, right?”
The Goblin nodded stiffly. Erin opened the door and gestured inside.
“Right then, come in.”
The ragged Goblin hesitated. It thrust the coins at her.
“Um. The first meal is free.”
The Goblin Erin had decided to name Rags looked blankly at her. Apparently ‘free’ wasn’t too easy to understand to a race that took what they wanted. Everything was free, or nothing was free.
“How about I take the money and I’ll feed you until it runs out, okay?”
Again, Erin received a blank look but Rags seemed relieved when she took the money. Erin gingerly put the filthy pile of coins on the inn’s bar counter and wished she had hot water to go with the soap.
“Okay. Right. This isn’t the best time, but why don’t you have a seat over here with your friends?”
The Goblins meekly wandered over to the table Erin was pointing at and sat down. She hesitated. What next?
“Right, food.”
All eight heads shot up and the Goblins stared at Erin. The one she’d fed before was already drooling onto the table.
“Give me five—ten minutes and I’ll have all you can eat. I just need to put on another pot. And make some soup. But I’ve got bread!”
Erin turned. Okay, she’d stuff their faces quick. She dashed into the kitchen and reemerged with a loaf of fresh bread she’d brought and some cheese and sausage. The Goblins stared hungrily as Erin began dumping plates in front of them. They flinched back from her, though, and when she handed them a fork they ducked down as if they thought she were going to stab them with it.
“You can eat this while I get more food, okay?”
The Goblins stared at the food. Rags cautiously reached for the bread, and Erin smacked her head. All the Goblins flinched as one.
“Oh, duh. Sorry about that. I’ll slice it up for you.”
Confused, the Goblins watched Erin dart into the kitchen again. They eyed the wonderful-smelling bread, meat and strange yellow thing, and wondered if they could eat it. Then they looked up and screamed as Erin walked back into the room with a kitchen knife.
“Oh no, don’t run! I’m not going to hurt you!”
Erin waved her hands frantically and nearly poked herself with the knife. The Goblins halted in their mad rush out the door.
“I’m just going to cut this food for you. See?”
She slowly and carefully went over to the food and sliced it up into smaller pieces. Erin smiled at the Goblins as they suspiciously moved back to the table.
“And now I’ll put the knife away. No more pointy thing. You don’t have to worry; you’ll be safe here. Okay?”
She gave them another reassuring smile. That was the precise moment when a group of Antinium entered the inn, followed closely by Klbkch. Erin’s smile froze on her lips.
Klbkch froze too and the other tall, identical brown and black insects behind him instantly halted in their tracks. The Goblins were petrified in their seats, but half immediately began edging towards the nearest window.
Erin waved frantically at Klbkch. Then she turned towards the Goblins and gave them another reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry! Don’t worry. These people aren’t here to hurt you. They’re guests. They’re going to eat too, understand?”
They hesitated, but Rags seemed to be made of sterner stuff than her larger comrades. She returned to her seat. And it was a she, Erin was sure of it. The other Goblins—all but one of whom were boys—didn’t wear anything on their upper torso. They barely wore anything to cover their privates.
She sheparded them back to their seats and tried not to look at Goblin nether regions as their loincloths shifted in unfortunate ways. There was a reason pants were invented.
“Go ahead and eat as much as you want.”
Again, the Goblins glanced nervously at the Antinium, but now the initial scare was over, the fresh food called to them. There was a moment’s hesitation, then Rags grabbed a piece of sausage and the Goblins began gobbling all the food on the table with their hands.