Kraken My Heart

by K. L. Hiers

  Ghulk’s milky eyes widened, and his head dropped with a disappointed huff. “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Ted grinned, pleased that his information from Kunst was coming in handy. Making Ghulk look like an idiot was an unexpected bonus.

  “Too bad.” Grell winked at Ted. “Our handsome and deliciously thick suspect has already graciously pointed out that since we don’t know exactly where they met and considering most of the pits are technically outside of Xenon, there is no solid evidence of the treaty having been violated. So, no declaring war on Zebulon, I’m afraid.”

  Smiling bashfully, Ted allowed himself to feel a small tickle of pride.

  “But Your Highness!” Ghulk pleaded.

  “I can’t believe that I missed out on prime post-coitus cuddling time for this.” Grell groaned. “Please shut up.”

  Shutting up appeared to be the last thing on Ghulk’s mind, and he continued to argue with Grell. Ted wandered a few feet away to give them some space. He found himself drawn to Mire’s swelling corpse and was pleasantly surprised to see that decomposition was unchanged from what he knew outside of Xenon.

  Somehow that was comforting.

  Mire’s eyes had dehydrated and sunk into his skull, and his belly had puffed up as his corpse prepared to putrefy. A sparkle by Mire’s ear caught Ted’s attention, something catching the light that he thought maybe he’d noticed before—

  There was a small tug on Ted’s arm, and he knew the touch immediately. “Hey, little buddy.”

  Another insistent tug.

  Ted looked around quickly. He saw the shadow of the little boy hovering in the corner, and he was waving urgently.

  The library.

  He didn’t know how he knew, but he did. He turned back to where Grell and Ghulk were still arguing, clearing his throat. “Hey, uh, Your Highness? We need to go.”

  “What is it?” Grell asked, holding up his palm in Ghulk’s face to quiet him. “What’s wrong?”

  “Little buddy is telling me to come on,” Ted replied.

  “Good enough for me!” Grell said, clearly tired of Ghulk’s flapping mouth. “Now, while I appreciate your efforts to assist in finding Humble Visseract, try harder. Because you suck. Take care, Ghulk!”

  Leaving Ghulk pouting behind them, Grell marched over to take Ted’s hand and started walking. Their first step together landed on the library floor as Grell seamlessly teleported them over.

  “Let’s see what your little friend is up to, eh?” Grell looked around curiously. “Can you see him?”

  “Not yet, but I’m pretty sure he’s here somewhere,” Ted said, starting to walk up to one of the aisles of books. “Ghulk seems really eager to help, huh?”

  “He’s one of the many who doesn’t like Visseract. He also didn’t like my cousin, either.”

  “Fuck, does anybody get along here?”

  “No, it’s government.” Grell slid his hand along the books. “No one actually likes each other. We just pretend to occasionally.”

  “Sounds like my world.” Ted snorted, glancing back at Grell. He watched as the king gazed over his books with a fond smile, prompting him to ask, “You and Vael hung out here a lot?”

  “It was his favorite place in the castle. We’d spend days in here reading together. It’s why I hung his picture over there. I figured… this is where he’d want to be remembered.”

  Ted reached back for Grell’s hand.

  Grell squeezed, asking politely, “Do you like to read, Ted?”

  “Not really,” Ted confessed. “It’s hard for me to sit down and read somethin’. Can’t focus. Probably why I couldn’t handle school. Too many fuckin’ books.”

  “Oh.” Grell quickly tried to hide his disappointment.

  “Maybe, uh, you could read to me instead?” Ted offered. “I love listening to you talk, and you could read all your favorites to me. Guarantee they’re all gonna be brand-new.”

  “Thank you,” Grell said with a warm smile. “I would like that very much.”

  “Fuck, you’re gorgeous when you smile like that,” Ted said softly, unable to resist leaning in for a kiss. He worried only after their lips touched that this might be inappropriate, but Grell kissed him back just as sweetly.

  “Mmm… come along,” Grell urged. “We have work to do.” He reached down and smacked Ted’s ass.

  “Ow, fuck!” Ted blushed and rubbed his butt, breaking away to keep exploring. There was a small tug at his elbow, and he turned back around, catching a glimpse of the little boy rushing around Grell.

  Ted followed, using the opportunity to pinch Grell’s hip as he slipped by. He tried to keep up with the shadowy little figure, finding himself in a dark corner of the library. There were more scrolls than books here, and a long gilded one dropped at Ted’s feet.

  “What is it you’re trying to show me, little buddy?” Ted picked up the scroll and unrolled it, flinching when little shards of metal spilled out. “Shit!”

  They’d been carefully wrapped up in the scroll and now littered the floor.

  Grell snapped his fingers, and all of the pieces rose up into the air for his inspection. He turned them this way and that, slowly bringing them together like the pieces of a puzzle to create a small luminous purple band.

  “Hey, is that one of your ear thingies?” Ted said, squinting at the detailed designs.

  “Yes. It’s someone’s mating band. It starts off as one large piece, specially forged for the couple, and then it’s split in half during the wedding ceremony. One for each of them.”

  “Can you tell who it belonged to?”

  “No,” Grell said, turning the band to show a crack where a few fragments were still missing. “I can’t read it. The bit I need is gone, of course.” He scowled. “Some great help your little friend was.”

  “Hey, he knows what he’s doing!” Ted argued. “I mean, I think he does.” He rubbed his forehead. “If he wanted us to find this damn thing, it has to be important.”

  “Hmmph.”

  “Well, I don’t see you coming up with anything!” Ted snapped, looking back at the band. The purple color was so damned familiar, and he swore he was having déjà vu.

  “I’m sorry, I’ve been a little busy banging your brains out for the last few hours!” Grell growled. “I’m trying to think!”

  “Think harder! And hey, I still really wanna fuckin’ cuddle later!”

  “Me too!” Grell bit back.

  “Down,” a soft voice whispered. “You have to go down….”

  Ted turned when he heard the voice, trying to figure out where it was coming from. “Little buddy? Is that you?”

  “Oh, him again.” Grell rolled his eyes. “Maybe he’ll show us a picture of someone’s foot and tell us here’s the killer! Very helpful, he is.”

  “Shush,” Ted hissed, moving out to the sitting area with the giant chairs. He could see the little boy hovering behind one, and he took a knee. “Hey there, little dude. What’s up? What are you trying to tell me?”

  “You have to go down,” the little boy whispered, peering around the chair. “Down in the pits. You have to see why.”

  “The pits,” Ted repeated his words out loud. “We have to go down into the pits to see why.”

  “Why what?” Grell frowned.

  “Why Mire was killed maybe? Why Visseract was down there? Maybe all of it.” Ted stood up. “Can we go there?”

  “We can, but….”

  “What is it?”

  “You’re going to see things that you may not understand and perhaps will even upset you,” Grell cautioned. “I realize that you’re quite familiar with human funeral rites, but we Asra practice things much differently than your kind.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” Ted gulped.

  “Come,” Grell said, offering his hand, “and I’ll show you.”

  Ted trusted Grell, but his nerves were on edge as he took his hand. Something pulled in his chest as the world moved around them, and the hand he was holding
turned into a giant paw.

  Grell had resumed his monstrous cat body, and they were now standing in a massive cave.

  No, not a cave, Ted realized as he looked around in awe.

  It was a mausoleum.

  There were large slots in the walls, from the smooth floor all the way up to the high ceiling above them. Everything had been carved into the very rock, and the slots held bodies in varying stages of decomposition. The majority of them were skeletal and mummified, but some were juicy and actively putrefying.

  Ted didn’t see any caskets or vaults. The bodies had been tucked into the slots and left there to rot. Although only a few seemed fresh, the smell of decay was quite overwhelming.

  “The pits are where we bring our dead now,” Grell explained somberly. “Just as a king must rule, he must also serve his people and protect their remains.”

  “Protect them from what?” Ted asked, remembering to make himself grin to keep from throwing up.

  “Grave robbers,” a familiar and snotty voice replied. “The graveyards of the Asra were often ransacked by humans when they still lived on Aeon. There are also records of other members of the everlasting races such as the Faedra or the Vulgora who would desecrate their burial sites.”

  “And even other Asra,” Grell added bitterly, stalking over to where the voice was coming from. He swung his paw, batting over a small blue orb. “Ah, Professor Kunst. So good to see you again.”

  The orb rolled up to Ted’s feet, and he picked it up. “Ah, hey, dude.”

  “It’s about time you two came down here,” Kunst complained. “I’ve been waiting here for hours!”

  “If I shake you, can you tell me my future?” Ted grinned, tempted to give the glowing orb a good jolt. “Or are you just gonna say ‘don’t count on it’?”

  “I will certainly not!” Kunst snarled. “I am not some cheap plastic prognosticator! I am a living soul bound to this infernal ball until the binding is severed, and don’t you dare even think about—”

  There was a soft groan from one of the slots, and Ted saw one of the bodies move.

  “The fuck?”

  “It’s nothing to worry about,” Grell said, padding back to Ted’s side. “Pay no attention to it.”

  “Grell, that body moved.” Ted clung to Kunst’s orb. “Are they… are they not all dead? Do you entomb people while they’re fuckin’ alive?”

  “My dear Tedward,” Grell soothed, “let me explain. Of all the everlasting races created by the gods, we Asra live the longest. We were meant to serve gods, after all. We can live for thousands of years, and that lifespan is a burden for some.

  “When an Asra is ready to pass on, we hold a funeral for them, and their body is brought here so that they may sleep as the gods do. Burial sites for Asra have always been secret places, their locations only given to our kings, who are charged with guarding them.”

  “But they’re not dead,” Ted said bluntly. “They’re not sleeping like the gods or whatever, they’re dying.”

  “Once the funeral is conducted, they’re dead,” Grell insisted. “In the eyes of the Asran people, they’ve passed on.”

  “But they’re not really dead.”

  “Okay, by human standards, perhaps they’re still a tiny bit alive until they pass on in their little dreaming,” Grell conceded with an exasperated sigh, “but to us, they’re very much dead.”

  “Fuck,” Ted whispered as he glanced over the slots. He wondered how many of the Asra had been alive when they were brought down here, and he was struggling not to let his unease show.

  “Even a single millennium is a long time to live,” Kunst offered. “The world changes, and yet, they stay the same. Sometimes it’s just too much.”

  “I just… I can’t imagine….”

  “You don’t have to understand it to respect it,” Kunst said quietly. “This is what the Asra do.”

  “No, I know. You’re right. I know that. It was just, uh, very surprising.” Ted glanced up to Grell. “This is what you were afraid to show me?”

  “Yes,” Grell mumbled and twitched his tail.

  “It’s okay.” Ted petted Grell’s shoulder. “Look, I’ve seen a lot of weird and crazy stuff. Death is like that. It can be gross and scary, but… it can also be beautiful.”

  Grell perked up.

  “You do this for all your people when they die?” Ted asked. “You bring them here and take care of them?”

  “Yes,” Grell replied. “One day when I’m too tired to carry them, my son will take my place.”

  “See, that’s beautiful,” Ted insisted. “It’s a family thing. That’s really cool.” He was honestly trying not to be creeped out, especially when his eyes drifted back to the body he’d seen move before. “So, uh, why would people wanna rob Asran graves?”

  “The bones,” both Grell and Kunst replied at the same time.

  “Oh, go ahead,” Grell scoffed. “Please. I’ll let the dead human tell the other human all about it.”

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” Kunst said, managing to sound quite huffy despite being trapped in the orb and ignoring Grell’s obvious sarcasm. “There was a time before the gods went into the dreaming when all of Great Azaethoth’s children lived on Aeon together.”

  “The Asra were already in Xenon,” Grell interjected. “At least, you know, most of us.”

  “Yes,” Kunst griped. “The Asra were up in Xenon, the Vulgora lived in the oceans, the Faedra in the forest, and so on. Often enough, they all lived quite peacefully with humans. That is, until the gods left. Without the great deities there to protect them, humans hunted all the everlasting races for their various parts.”

  “Parts?” Ted echoed.

  “They killed the Eldress for their horns, the Faedra for their wings, the Asra for their bones. All of the everlasting people who didn’t flee to Xenon were being tracked down by humans. They were outnumbered, trapped, and slaughtered.”

  “There are some who were able to hide themselves,” Grell added. “Although they’re functionally extinct from Aeon, the everlasting people live on through their descendants.”

  “Descendants? Like what, their kids, living among humans?” Ted scratched his head. “Think I would remember someone who looked like they were half fish monster.”

  “Some of the everlasting bred with humans and produced very human-looking offspring,” Grell explained. “Perhaps that Olympian runner all over the news is a truly fantastic human athlete, or perhaps somewhere in his tree there was a spot of monster-shagging with an Eldress.

  “An old lady who has an almost magical way with plants? Maybe she’s a very gifted gardener, or maybe her great-grandpa got it on with a Faedra. Fantastic lover? Obviously an Asra.”

  Blushing and rubbing his neck, Ted confessed, “Maybe it’s just me being an ignorant Lucian, but I’ve never heard of any of this stuff.”

  “The rise of the Lucian faith is what made everything worse.” Kunst grunted in disgust. “The Litany claimed the everlasting races were demons and abominations that had to be destroyed because they offended the Lord of Light, and the hunts only intensified.”

  “While still desecrating our corpses for pieces,” Grell snapped bitterly.

  “Fuck, that’s horrible,” Ted murmured. “Like people killing elephants because they think their ivory would give them big dicks or something.”

  “Except our anatomical bits actually do possess magical properties,” Grell said with a weary smile. “Asra were easy targets because of how we bury our dead, and countless graves were ravaged….” He trailed off, turning his head to look down toward the end of the mausoleum.

  There was a large archway, presumably leading into another cave.

  “Grell?” Ted frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Come on!” Grell suddenly took off, bolting across the room and through the archway.

  “The fuck!” Ted tucked Kunst’s orb under his arm and ran after Grell, struggling to keep up. They passed through more cavernous mausol
eums, and Ted noticed that the bodies were getting older and more decayed as they went.

  By the time he caught up to Grell, the bones around him had apparently turned to dust.

  No, not dust.

  They were gone.

  Ted stared in horror at a whole room of empty slots. There were cracks in the walls where the graves had been violently emptied, and Grell had collapsed in front of a small cluster of them.

  “Oh no,” Kunst whispered brokenly.

  “Grell,” Ted gasped. “I’m so, so fucking sorry.” He didn’t dare approach, not yet, warily watching Grell tremble in rage.

  “My queen,” Grell spat angrily. “They took him. They took my fucking queen. And my parents, and my fuckin’ grandparents. All the ancient ones! They’re all fucking gone!” He rose back up, his tail lashing. “I’m going to find Visseract and eat him while he’s still fucking alive! I will tear out his entrails and make them his fuckin’ out-trails!”

  “Uh, so, he’s having a moment,” Ted whispered to Kunst, backing away as Grell continued to rage. “Can you tell me why anyone would want Asran bones? What do they do exactly?”

  “They can be used to change one’s form, to shape-shift as they do,” Kunst replied quickly. “They can also help someone travel between worlds, create portals, and astral project.”

  “Astral what now?”

  “It’s when your soul leaves your body,” Kunst explained. “Those who have mastered the ability can leave their body at any time and travel great distances.”

  “And why would Gronoch and Visseract want to do any of that stuff?”

  “I don’t know,” Kunst said, huffing in frustration. “I know what I heard, and this doesn’t make any sense. I know they were talking about using Silenced souls to make slaves, but I don’t understand how they would do that or why they would need the bones. Gods can already move between worlds, and Silenced people can’t perform any kind of magic.”

  “Even with special kitty-monster bones?”

  “Yes. Some may be able to use small trinkets and charms that are already charged with magic, but nothing like this.”