by Atlas Kane
Cade studied her face, her purple skin seeming more alive covered in perspiration. Atop her head, two horns curled back, something he’d missed before as he recalled she’d been wearing a hood and cloak. Black hair clung to her scalp, and she bit the corner of her lip nervously. You hide your thoughts well, for a man at least. Please, tell me what you think of my horns. Are they disturbing? Distasteful?
After a while, Cade allowed himself to view the bony appendages from a new angle, not just the biased one of a man who’d only ever seen humans before. Each horn had an elegant curve to it, taking them up and around the side of her head. He could see the benefit to this design as both of her temples were quite well-protected. The horns had a bronze cast to them and looked almost metallic.
Then he shrugged, and admitted honestly, I think they’re lovely, though I am not used to them. A demoness? You said that is what I would call you. What would you call you?
Her smile broadened, and she answered. I would call me a bezel. Of all the races you will no doubt encounter on this world, the bezel is one that is closest to human.
She drifted in the water as she ran a hand over a horn self-consciously. As she did so, Cade couldn’t help his eyes flicking down to the tops of her generous breasts lifted by the water. He immediately stared back at her face, trying his best not to think too many horny thoughts, but the image of her chest was burned into his mind. If the women he’d seen before had full breasts, Ketzal was doubly endowed, and for just a second, he thought, Are her nipples as dark as her lips?
Fittingly, a devilish grin crossed the woman’s face, a deep vein of repressed playfulness pushing at a coy exterior. Kindly, she allowed him some degree of dignity as she continued, We are from the same reality you are, though not the same realm. I am sure you have heard the name of my great-grandfather spoken. He’s quite famous.
Try me, Cade thought in his head, reveling in the intimacy of this manner of communication.
Have you heard of Beelzebub the Mighty?
Cade’s jaw dropped. He had a rocky faith at best growing up, and things only got worse after seeing the worst mankind had to offer in war. But he remembered the name of the demon from some Bible lesson long ago. Yes, I believe I do. You’re his great-granddaughter?
In a manner of speaking. All bezel descend from him, though there are countless generations separating me from my progenitor. You asked what I am, and now you know, but it is also what I do. Unlike you, I could not choose my class. We are bound to the abilities we had when we wore different flesh.
Okay, so all bezel have the same class? The same abilities?
She shook her head, her horns catching the light and glimmering faintly. Ketzal moved closer, within two feet of Cade, and his eyes glanced down at her lips. They were full and much darker than the rest of her skin, almost black, like the skin of a plum or black cherry.
There are no classes of bezel, only a rigid hierarchy. I was lucky not to be of the lower castes, some so base they were formless, only wavering clouds of consciousness with little purpose. Then there are imps and hell hounds and many other beasts who have little intellect, but great appetite. I am of the third caste, a bezelite, or a demon as humans know them from stories and legends. Above that position there is another caste similar to the lords and ladies of a court, the elite among us.
And at the top?
At the top are the gods of our world. They battled with the gods of yours, and much was lost. Both sides are simply too powerful to end the other, so instead, they spend millennia ruining one another.
Cade’s mind spun. What an odd take on everything his world believed in and knew to be true, at least from his tiny perspective.
Ketzal continued, now so close he felt her foot graze against his, and he watched the pearly white of her teeth as she said the rest out loud. “I can hear the thoughts of others. That is one of my abilities. And I can also use mana to cast spells. When I came here, I was allowed to choose a new set of spells, which has been very pleasant. I can weave darkness, use it for concealment, to cause damage. And other things. Though it is generally impolite to ask too much about another’s abilities before you know them well.”
Embarrassed, he looked down into the water, hoping he hadn’t offended the woman.
Guessing the source of his discomfort, she added, I am not offended, Cade. Although I am worried. As I am sure you know, you were not supposed to survive your trial in the forest. That you have has forced Vormer, by his own decree, to allow you to serve the Burning God. But if you do not abide Vormer’s commands he will likely kill you.
This didn’t come as a surprise to Cade. Somehow, he had to figure a way out of the man’s influence of power. Even now, he was certain the baths were guarded. The topic of the strange deity coming up stirred Cade’s curiosity. He moved to question the woman about this Burning God, when a guard entered the mists. “You’re both being summoned by Commandant Vormer. Please come at once. Lord Caderick, more suitable dress has been arranged for you in the antechamber.”
A pang of anxiety crossed Ketzal’s face. All of the familiarity and warmth that had accumulated on her soft features fled in an instant. Cade knew then exactly who her tormenter was. How he could change a thing about it though, escaped him completely.
She moved away, lifting herself from the pool and walking away. Despite his anger at having the only pleasant conversation he’d had in this world ended on the whim of a total jerk, he admired the silhouette of the woman who walked away into the mist. She was like a bottom-heavy hourglass, her tail swishing gently in a way that was surprisingly attractive.
Do not delay, Cade. I very much enjoy your company, and if only you are permitted to stay, this life might not be so hard. I’ll see you at the luncheon. Goodbye.
Goodbye, was all Cade thought, stifling the other urges and metaphors he had to describe the awful leader of this city.
He stepped out of the water, his body clean and restored, but full of unfocused rage and frustration.
8
Lunch with the Captain and His Parrot
Dressing himself with the help of a mirror so overwrought with gold filigree it begged to be melted down was less than comforting. He felt more like a parrot preening in his cage than a welcome guest. Having two silent guards hovering in the dressing room with him did little to help that impression.
There wasn’t much he could do at this point though. If the leader of this city could command squads of heavily armored grunts, how could Cade hope to do to deny the lion’s wishes?
The meal was served in the Great Hall, predictably, and Cade had to sit at an over-large table a group of servants had carted in for just this purpose. Considering his host, he didn’t think it unlikely that every meal was as over-wrought and ridiculous as this one promised to be.
At least I have a shirt, Cade thought, glancing down at the billowy blouse he’d been given no choice but to wear. He looked like a prince in a sword and sorcery movie, the shirt opened at the chest and even had a hint of lace adorning each cuff. But still, it was a shirt, so he wore it with pride.
A pair of shoes and a new pair of trousers were the other fine gifts he’d received from Vormer, and though they were much too fine for serious adventuring, the belt was not. It was a sturdy piece of leather with a steel buckle. Plain but serviceable. For that much at least, and the socks of course, Cade was grateful.
Having been oiled down by the same three women who’d scrubbed him clean, however, had left him mentally disheveled. Not that he disliked such treatment, but it was hard to get used to.
When they’d finished applying a thick cream to his hair and styling it, the tiny girl, the spinner, had pinched his ass and given him a mournful look as she walked away, leaving him with a pile of clean clothes.
Sitting alone in the Great Hall, Cade had plenty of time to think of all that transpired since coming to Antinium. Being given an awesome class, one with the appetite of three men, he thought as his stomach growled, was amazing. Increa
sing his personal Attributes and leveling up, even better. That thought made him realize he had no clue how the leveling system worked other than the vague explanation of XP given to him by Pablo. On his next foray, Cade planned on cornering the demon for more info.
Then there was the bloody drakeling, such a bullshit quest, and the beast. What had Vormer called it? The Kotani Ma? The huge beast was simply terrifying. If he lived a thousand lifetimes, never seeing it again would be too soon.
The rustle of servants caught his attention, and before he could stop himself, he stood up as Vormer and Ketzal entered. Damn. Now he thinks I’m polite.
And of course, Vormer hadn’t noticed the gesture. He sat at the head of the table, Ketzal across from Cade. It was clear who was wearing the damned pants around here, even though Cade’s thighs were still enjoying the ones he’d been given. The term “borrowed pants” wasn’t lost on him in the slightest.
“Thank you so much for your patience, Caderick. I’ve given your name some consideration, and wanted to know if you’d prefer me to call you Caderick Shelby, or Caderick Clarke. Is there a preference on which names are to be used in your world?”
“Cade is fine, thank you.” He most certainly wouldn’t be mentioning how much his middle name irked him. More fuel for this asshole was not needed.
Vormer’s features pulled into a haughty scowl. “Shorten your name? What an interesting culture. In my world, we have but one name, and we keep it unmolested by fits of fancy. Titles, though, are much more important.”
The condescension of the man’s words was liberally applied. “Long names are important in your world but not subtlety. As Commandant, though, I suppose you have little use for it.”
Ketzal stiffened, fear in her eyes. Please, do not make a scene. This is his way of offering you a home here, she said through his mind.
This does not feel like a home, Ketzal. How can you tolerate this man? Cade asked in his mind.
But rather than be offended, Vormer grinned with a disturbing display of unwarranted mirth. Tips of elongated fangs protruded from his mouth as he did so, and Cade knew one more thing to remember about him. “Well said. Well said. And what does it matter how quaint your world is compared to the splendor of my own. Isn’t that right, Cade? After all, we sit here in Tanrial, enjoying the finest fare Antinium has to offer. Our old lives be damned.”
Cade smiled and gave a slight nod, trying not to betray his conversation with Ketzal. She spoke earnestly in his mind. He is a man of great cruelty. I, above all others, know this. But if you can appease him, you might survive.
We will see, was all Cade could manage in return.
Servants bustled about their table, pouring what appeared to be wine in his cup, and bringing a plate of greens. A wide platter of fruits was set in the center. If Cade had to suffer another word from the jerk’s cock holster, he would at least have something to eat. In a few bites, his salad was gone, and he reached out, grabbing up a few fruits. He casually scanned them, storing their names in his head in case he came across any back in the wilds.
Prickly Fig
Consumable Flora
Food Source
Red-Honeyed Grapes
Consumable Flora
Food Source
Cobalt Plantains
Consumable Flora
Food Source
The plantains were by far his favorite so far.
When he looked up again, he saw that Vormer and Ketzal were still eating their salads. “The Lycan Metabolism, I presume,” Vormer said, gesturing to Cade’s empty plate.
“It is a blessing and a curse. Sorry for rushing, but I was starving,” he admitted, stifling a belch.
Vormer showed a bit of compassion and snapped his fingers. “Enough of this. Bring out the other courses. We need not sit on idle manners this day. We have a guest in our midst, one who is to be rewarded for his service.”
Cade wanted to roll his eyes. As if the man were showing him the greatest kindness by ignoring his savage appetite. But when the platter of meats was set before him, Cade decided maybe Captain Douchebag wasn’t so bad after all.
He ate a thick steak, using the elongated knife and two-pronged fork he’d been given to do so. Then he moved on to the unfortunate bird who’d been plucked and stuffed with grain. A single grape sat in its beak, the head, with all its feathers, still intact. Cade ignored the creature’s eye that stared up at him accusingly. It’s not my fault, buddy. You were too slow.
When he’d finished, he felt human once more. Though he did have the displeasure of watching Vormer and Ketzal eat properly. He’d been holding the knife wrong, and in the opposite hand, apparently, and the pronged instrument was to pull the meat off the bone. Eating by hand was proper here, or at least in Vormer’s world, as both Ketzal and he did exactly that.
After half an hour of painful silence, Cade admitted to himself, bless me, the wine is good at least. Vormer clapped his hands, and servants took the plates away, cleared the table, and even brought moist towels to cleanse the grease and debris from the diners’ mouths and hands.
Smiling, and sipping his own wine for the first time, Vormer came to the point. “You look a sight better than I last saw you. I take it the clothes and the… bath, were pleasant enough?”
Cade glanced down at his finery, and nodded. “The clothes are fine. Thank you. Not very comfortable being shirtless all the time.” Vormer was wearing an embroidered doublet, enough gold thread sewn into its caramel-colored lapels to sink a Spanish ship. Ketzal, though, was wearing a long dress, her breasts accentuated. What kind of a bra? he began, but cut off his thoughts. The woman could bloody well hear him. He looked back to his host, ignoring the subtle blush on her cheeks, her purple skin blooming a deep magenta.
“Good. Good, I am glad you feel so comfortable here. I sent sweet Ketzal in to make sure you were not at all lonely. I hope you found her company amusing?” A hint of something foul lurked in Vormer’s eyes as he said this last. Jealousy?
Cade coughed into his fist. “She is. She was, that is. Very good talk. Had no idea how complicated demon society is.”
Moving away from Ketzal’s bountiful form seemed to put Vormer back in order, and he smiled, glancing at the bezel woman. “Fascinating, no? How such a beauty could come from hooved beasts and foul gods, I could never tell you. But, I wish to discuss your reward.”
Ketzal winced at the rebuke, and Cade suppressed the urge to throw his too-long knife at the man as he continued to talk, still staring at Ketzal as he did so. This is too much, Ketzal. Both of us together might be strong enough.
She took a sip of her wine, her face placid and removed. Her words were anything but. Please, Cade. I have seen him exercise his power. Aten is real. He killed four warriors in a few moments with his swords, and he has other powers as well. We do not stand a chance.
Vormer continued as if nothing at all were amiss. “And don’t you worry, my good man. I have a few items to assist you in your ventures here in Antinium. A large waterskin will help, I presume. Also, a sturdier pair of boots and trousers are at your disposal, as is a proper shirt. The ones you are wearing are merely for the pretense of civility. We can’t expect an ape to learn poetry overnight, can we?”
How do you not kill this asshole? Cade asked the demoness, sitting so calm and repressed before him.
Her eyes flicked up, a warning present in them, and thankfully, Vormer’s attention had shifted to him. Please stop. This will only turn out badly if you don’t. For both of us, she added at the end, correctly guessing that the harm that might befall her would do more to curb his anger than anything else.
Fine. But not forever. This is too much.
“For it is in the best interest of Tanrial for you to go on another quest. I am sure you are willing and eager to serve Aten once more. In addition to your clothing, I will also update your map with a few key areas that might help you navigate the jungle more proficiently as well as this. I engraved your initials on it if you don’t mind
.”
A servant scuttled forward like a fearful crab and set down a dagger before him, an ornate hilt protruding. The thing was elegant, but thankfully, the metal it was cast in had a dull black color, and would more easily blend in. Coming from Vormer, this was a surprise. He would have thought such a gift would have been jewel-encrusted and way too shiny for the field. His own axe had a normal steel cast to it, but oddly, seemed not to reflect any light at all. That reminded him, where is my axe?
Vormer caught on to his anxiety and answered, “Please, do not worry. Here is your next gift. This one is far more valuable.” His axe was set down on the empty seat cushion beside him, tucked neatly away in a leather sheath attached to a sling. Cade could now stow his battle axe over his shoulder and keep both hands free. The bastard had been right. Not having to carry his weapon around everywhere would be an absolute blessing.
“These are excellent gifts. Thank you so much,” Cade said, the humility coming to his lips at great cost.
His host only lowered his head, then continued. “I need you well-outfitted. You see, not all is well in Antinium. There is, at this very moment, an uprising, a rebellion if you will. Not all wish to serve the mighty and ever-vigilant Burning God, as you and I. And worse, they have even attacked many of the servants who leave the city to retrieve food and medicines from the jungle. Imagine it, Cade. Attacking, killing, and despoiling these lovely men and women all to suit their greed?”
“They sound horrible,” Cade said, giving the man the answer he was seeking. Still, believing a damn word the golden man said was impossible.
“And they are. I do not wish you to eliminate them, not yet at least, and I do not think you currently capable. I wish for you to do a bit of reconnaissance for me. That’s all. Locate the rebels, scout their defenses, the number and classes of their fighters, then return to the city. We can mount a proper attack once we know what we are up against. Will you do this for me, Cade?”