Zectas Volume VI: The Delusive Realm of Mictlan

by John Nest

  “Um… Do you mind if we take a quick detour first,” said Smoke.

  “If it’s along the way, then sure,” answered Cynar.

  “It is,” replied Smoke, dusting off his armor.

  “So, where are we headed?” asked Cynar

  “To the MaduHai Ork Village,” replied Smoke.

  * * * * * *

  Disguised in his Faux persona, Smoke traveled together with Cynar and the rest of his OrkElf army. Despite Cynar’s explanation as to why they were now working with Smoke, he still kept receiving angry stares and rude comments from Cynar’s men.

  After riding their dirus wolves for a day, they arrived at the MaduHai Ork Outpost. During the trip, Smoke did his best to raise his Intimacy with Cynar and the rest of the OrkElves. For the most part of the journey it had a positive effect, but then he would sometimes bring up a sensitive topic and lower it again. Smoke was having difficulty raising it over 70, not to mention the heavy downpour of rain that accompanied them along the way, dampening everyone’s mood.

  + Entered MaduHai Outpost

  Remnants of a wyvern’s nest are left in this former Ork Outpost. The MaduHai Tribe have not made any attempts at reclaiming this place for the moment.

  Smoke led his dirus wolf into one of the abandoned huts. He motioned for Cynar to join him and step out of the rain.

  Cynar laughed as soon as he entered the hut. “You sure got me,” he said, shaking off the water from his armor. “For a second there, I really thought you were going to take me to an Ork Village. But it’s just an abandoned outpost instead,” he added with more laughter.

  “We are,” replied Smoke with all seriousness. “But you’re welcome to wait for me here.” He peered outside and the rain was showing no signs of letting up. “In these conditions, the swamp is most likely flooded.”

  “Have you forgotten our deal? I’m going with you!” declared Cynar. “I’ll have Beistand and the men make camp here. These huts are still livable.”

  “Alright, if you insist,” said Smoke. “I’ll start preparing, you better do the same and tell your men about it.”

  Smoke grinned. Although Cynar was still grumbling, he was pleased that his life was no longer in danger.

  While waiting for Cynar to return, Smoke took out Daga from his chest pocket. “Listen, you stay here and keep an eye on them. I trust Cynar but I want to know what his men think of me.”

  Daga nodded her tiny furry head. “You got it, Boss. But I can tell you right now if you want… they hate you!”

  “What the—” said Smoke, surprised by Daga’s reply. He exhaled and turned his back on the mouse, expecting her to run out the door.

  “Um. Boss, I think you might have forgotten something,” said Daga.

  “What? I think I’ve got everything,” said Smoke, double-checking his equipment.

  “Ahem, ahem! I meant my nibbles,” squeaked Daga.

  “Oh, right!” replied Smoke, putting down a small bag of chopped up jerky. “But that’s all you’re getting for now.”

  “Fine, fine,” replied Daga, merrily nibbling on her snacks.

  After the rain let up. Smoke and Cynar traveled into the swamp. Due to the heavy downpour, the swamp was now flooded. Fortunately for Smoke, the shoddy raft he built was still in the same spot he left it. The downside, however, was that it was not made to accommodate two people.

  “Look at this crappy craftsmanship,” said Cynar as he squeezed onto the raft. “Bet you got this from those Orks, didn’t you?”

  “Um. Something like that,” replied Smoke in a lowered tone.

  A slighted Smoke rowed his raft towards the reclaimed island of the MaduHai Orks. With the aid of his Cunning of the Dire Fox ability, he avoided most of the monsters lurking from within the murky waters. After defeating four alligators along the way, the two men on board the undependable raft spotted the Ork village.

  “Hey!” exclaimed Cynar when he caught glimpse of it. “They maybe bad boat builders but that dam is something else.”

  Smoke grinned. “Really? You think so?” he said, proud. He marveled at his own water system while nodding his head, still grinning. The water-wheel and inclined dam gave a great aesthetic boost to the otherwise dreary village.

  After docking the raft on the muddy shore, Smoke told Cynar to stay behind and goes to talk to the Ork Guards.

  “Can’t believe that there are supposed to be good Orks,” said Cynar with his paralysis darts in hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll jump right in if I sense anything wrong.”

  “Relax, they really are peaceful Orks,” said Smoke. “Trust me. I’m sure you’ll change your mind once you talk to their leader.”

  “Don’t bet on it,” retorted Cynar.

  After leaving Cynar near the raft, Smoke casually approached the wooden village gates. He did not mind the rushing Ork Guards towards him as he examined the canal that he built.

  Suddenly, four Ork Guards pointed their sharp wooden spears at Smoke.

  “Kinsamir kanir? Nagunirasir kari dirir?” asked the Guard, whom Smoke knew to be called Debile. This roughly translated to who are you and what are you doing here.

  “Debile, what’s going?” asked Smoke with his improved Orkish, raising his hands in surrender. “Is something wrong?”

  “Great! Another outsider who speaks our tongue,” grumbled the Guard named Raleur. “Is someone out there giving out Orkish lessons for free—” he added but stopped mid sentence. “Wait! Why do you know Debile’s name?”

  “Raleur, what are you talking about?” asked Smoke. “It’s me!” he said, pointing to himself.

  “Do you know this weirdo?” Debile asked Raleur, to which, Raleur shrugged.

  With the Ork Guards not lowering their spears, Cynar stepped into action. He blitzed behind Smoke and pointed his paralysis darts at the Orks.

  “Faux, what’s going on here?” Cynar asked Smoke. “Are they really Orks? They’re no bigger than your usual OrkElf.”

  When Smoke heard Cynar call him Faux, it hit him! ‘The MaduHai Orks know me as Ilad!’ he realized and smacked his palm across his Paradox Mask. He completely forgot that he was disguised as his Elementalist persona.

  Before Smoke could think up of a solution, Debile blew his whistle. In a matter of seconds, Smoke and Cynar were surrounded by more than thirty Orks.

  “Relaksir!” exclaimed Smoke in Orkish. “Everyone, just keep calm!”

  “Keep Calm? Tell that to the guy with the darts pointed at us,” said Raleur.

  “Debile, can you please call Meneur,” begged Smoke.

  “He even knows the High Priestess,” chimed Raleur. “Why does he know so many of us?”

  “Please, just call her and tell her Ilad sent me,” quickly added Smoke.

  “Wait, you know Ilad?” asked Debile, lowering his spear.

  “Stop,” called out Raleur. “It could be a trick.”

  Smoke quickly rummaged for the Ork Emissary Emblem and raised it high for everyone to see. “Ilad sent me to update Meneur on the special mission she gave him!”

  “Really?” said Debile, doubtful. “Alright, somebody call for the High Priestess,” he ordered. “But no one lower their weapons,” he added, still pointing his spear at Smoke and Cynar.

  “Just give me a reason!” hissed Cynar in perfect Orkish. “Kayatavar Orks!”

  “Just who the hell is teaching these people our sacred tongue!” screamed Raleur. “They’re even teaching them to curse in our words too.”

  “What kind of Orks are they?” Cynar asked Smoke. “They’re only as tall as me. I’m sure you and I can take on all of them.”

  All of a sudden, a thick fog surrounded them. Goosebumps erupted on Smoke’s arms as the icy mist covered them.

  “Evutangir invong magir armasir,” ordered Meneur. She popped up in the middle of the mist, dispersing it.

  SNAP SNAP SNAP

  The sound of spears being held at bay echoed throughout the muddy shores of the reclaimed island. Even Cynar, who was ready to
attack with his paralysis darts, involuntarily lowered his weapons.

  “Ah! You must be the OrkElf that I’ve heard some much about,” Meneur said to Cynar in Lacerta—the common tongue.

  “Wait a minute,” blurted out Smoke. “You can see him?”

  “Of course not, you dummy!” replied Meneur, facing him with her white glossy eyes.

  “Then, how can you—” began Smoke but dropped the whole thing altogether as there were more pressing matters at hand. “It’s great to see you again. But do you think you can do something with this crowd?”

  Meneur turned her head and spoke to her fellow MaduHai Orks. “Everyone, it’s alright,” she said in Orkish. “He is Ilad’s friend. Sorry for the confusion, it seems I’ve forgotten to inform Debile of their arrival.”

  “Ilad’s friends, huh?” questioned Raleur. “That’s fine, but none of them can enter the village. Only Ilad gained the right to do so,” He strongly reminded them. “If they have business with the High Priestess, they should do it here—outside.”

  “Hey! You can’t talk to High Priestess Meneur like that,” argued Debile.

  “It’s fine,” interjected Meneur, pacifying Debile with a wave of her hand. “He has a point.” She then turned to face Raleur. “Don’t worry, they’ll only be staying on the shore.” She then patted the grumbling guard’s shoulder, calming him as well. “Now, why don’t everyone else get back inside the village while I talk with our guests?”

  Groggy, the Ork Guards dragged their spears on the muddy shores and returned as Meneur commanded.

  “Well, now that that’s settled, what can I do for you Smok— I mean Faux? Was it?” said Meneur to Smoke.

  Before Smoke could answer, Cynar rushed Meneur and pointed his paralysis dart at her. “What did you do to me? You bewitched me! I was just about to attack them but suddenly lost my will to fight.”

  A composed Meneur waved her hand in front of Cynar. “Calm down.”

  “Tell me what you did to me!” screamed Cynar.

  “Strange?” said Meneur. “That usually works.”

  “Huh?” asked Smoke as he stepped in between the two of them, grabbing hold of Cynar’s hand and lowering it. “What are you talking about?”

  “I sent a mist of tranquility to your friend,” explained Meneur. “It should have removed all his blood lust but it doesn’t seem to be working.”

  “So that’s what you did!” said Cynar, pushing Smoke to the side and pointing his dart at her once more. “What did I tell you, Faux? You can never trust these Orks. Bet she used some sort of hypnosis spell on you too!”

  “No, she didn’t,” said Smoke, lowering Cynar’s weapon again. ‘Otherwise, I would have seen a notification window,’ he reassured himself.

  “Well, whatever it is, she’s still doing something nasty,” said Cynar, pointing his dart at her as he spoke.

  “Faux is right,” chimed in Meneur, extending her hand to Cynar. “I mean you no harm.”

  The tall and slender OrkElf quickly backed away from the old and blind High Priestess.

  Cynar never dropped his darts from his throwing position. “Stay away! You’re gonna do something weird again!”

  “Relax, Kid,” said Meneur. “I only want to talk.”

  “Pfft! Talk with an Ork, that’s rich!” said Cynar. “All you people know is how to pillage and rape.”

  “You think all Orks are like that?” asked Meneur. “What about your kind? I heard some of you steal and even kidnap children?”

  “Hey! It’s not like we’re hurting anyone,” countered Cynar. “Besides, we only take those entitled snot-nosed brats.”

  “And that justifies your actions?” asked Meneur. “How is that any different from what the UrukHai and OlegHai tribes are doing?”

  “Hey! For your information, I treated those kids nicely,” argued Cynar. “Besides, it’s still a far cry from raping and killing.”

  “What a hypocrite!” said Meneur. “It’s wrong if the Orks do it, but it’s fine when you’re the one doing the oppression?”

  “Stop it, both of you,” interjected Smoke. “I didn’t come here for this.”

  “Me neither,” blurted out Cynar. “You can forget our deal, Faux. Sorry, but I don’t have the stomach to trust her. After seeing them, I’m doubtful your plan would have succeeded anyway.”

  “What plan?” Meneur asked Smoke.

  “Could you just wait,” Smoke said to Cynar. “Just let me talk to her, then we can leave.”

  “Fine!” replied Cynar and headed over to the shoddy stitched-up raft.

  With Cynar and Meneur broken apart, Smoke summarized the strategy of the joint kingdoms. He told her about their general idea on how to eliminate the United Ork Tribes in Etonner Valley.

  As she listened, Meneur kept on shaking her head. “Hm… hm… Nope, that won’t work at all,” she concluded after hearing Smoke’s update. “Snide and Dastard will spot your trap from a mile away.”

  “You mean the two OlegHai Generals?” asked Smoke. “You think they’ll really discover this?”

  “You don’t know them, do you?” asked Meneur. “General Snide is said to be a calculating genius. They say that he mastered all the war strategies of the Meridianus.”

  “I heard that he grew his army himself,” added Cynar. “He personally led his Orks from the front lines and made sure that his men gained experience from each encounter.”

  “Sounds like a typical Ork Commander to me,” said Smoke.

  “But what’s intriguing is how Snide never took any risks with his men,” explained Cynar. “He always went for the most minimal losses.”

  “You’re quite a knowledgeable young OrkElf, aren’t you,” said Meneur, grinning. “Not only did Snide’s men increase their levels, but he also gained the trust of the other scattered OlegHai Orks to join his ranks.”

  Smoke faced the young OrkElf leader, afraid that he would overreact for being interrupted by the old Ork High Priestess. However, Cynar remained stoic and listened to Meneur.

  “With their swelling numbers, Snide and his men began attacking larger towns,” added Meneur. “Even the mighty town guards of the Thanotl Kingdom could do nothing against Snide’s formations!”

  “Bet they were taken by surprise,” said Cynar. “Was their own fault for underestimating them.”

  Meneur slowly walked closer towards Cynar. She took tiny steps and did it in the most discreet manner. “That’s partially true,” she added. “But it was also because of Snide’s mastery of the strategies of the Meridianus. That was what paved the way to his bloody road.” She let out a deep sigh. “Countless of towns and villages were laid to waste. His army got more powerful after each invasion. Due to his continuous victories, the Orks have given him the moniker—Valay Fildir.”

  “The Undefeated,” said Smoke, translating Meneur’s Orkish.

  “But not for long,” said Cynar out loud. He threw one of his paralysis darts on a medium-sized white oak branch and broke it off from the tree.

  ‘Whoa! When did he get that strong?’ wondered Smoke. “And what about General Dastard?” he asked Meneur.

  “Yeah? Who is that?” asked Cynar as well. “Never heard that name before,” he said to Meneur, who was now standing practically next to him.

  “A cruel, sadistic man, and he’s probably the sneakiest bastard you’ll ever meet,” she answered while shaking her head. “He’s a lot older than Snide, but only really gained his momentum after he abused the innocent heart of a naive female.”

  “Eh? Say, what now?” asked Cynar, taken aback. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “I know! Who would have guessed that anyone would fall in love with a wrinkled old Ork?” explained Meneur. “Anyway, the short version is that Dastard gained new insight on battle tactics while the girl’s perception of the world turned forever dark…”

  “That’s it?” asked Smoke, disappointed. “That’s what made Dastard into one of the OlegHais’ Generals?”

  “Um… Well
, there’s more to the story, but just take my word for it, okay?” Meneur said to Smoke.

  “Yeah, he doesn’t seem all that threatening to me,” said Cynar.

  Meneur let out a sarcastic chuckle, followed by a deep sigh. “Oh, the two of you will know once you’ve faced him.”

  “But getting back on the plan, do you seriously think it won’t work?” Smoke asked Meneur.

  “As it is now, it won’t,” replied Meneur.

  “Bet you’ll know how to fix it, huh?” Cynar said to Meneur but lost his footing, surprised to see her so close to him. “Get back, Witch!” he screamed, threatening her with his paralysis darts.

  However, Meneur did not. Instead, she grabbed his hand and helped him up. As she did so, clean water sprang out from the mud and washed the dirt off the OrkElf’s clothes.

  “Hey, hey! Don’t want none of that mambo-jumbo,” said Cynar.

  “What is better, to be born good? Or to renounce your evil nature on a daily struggle?” she asked him while still holding his hand.

  “What?” replied Cynar. “Fight evil, of course!”

  Meneur smiled. “Then, why do you hate us?” she asked him softly. “Because our skin is green, does that give you the right to judge us?”

  Smoke saw Cynar’s mouth twitch as the OrkElf stared on the muddy shore.

  “You of all people should know how it feels to be discriminated because of what you look like,” said Meneur.

  “Hate has been the only thing in my heart whenever I see an Ork,” replied Cynar. “In my head, I know that I can trust you. Sadly, it’s my heart that tells me otherwise.”

  “Perhaps this will help?” said Meneur. She placed her hand on Cynar’s chest and mist covered the both of them. Sparks of light erupted every now and then.

  “Hey! You’re not killing each other in there, are you?” asked a concerned Smoke.

  Seconds passed and the mist vanished.

  “There, how’s that?” asked Meneur, patting his chest.

  Cynar looked at Meneur then at Smoke. “Sorry, but nothing’s changed. I still hate my father.”

  “Really?” she asked, surprised. “But that was my strongest cleansing spell.”