Rituals

by Ryan Hastings

  “The history of the Celestials isn’t so different from that of humanity. Their family fractured with the rebellion, just as did everything and everyone at the fall. Anri is a fallen Celestial, but a fallen Celestial is a different breed of enemy,” he explained. “Many fallen Celestials have been lost to the dusts of time. Anri resembles Dom’rel in more ways than either would probably admit, with one being the twisted survivability that they share.” The holograms began to dig beneath the surface of Harth, revealing the world below that had been built over the millennia.

  Iris was fascinated by what she was seeing. “There must be millions of caverns. How deep does this place go?” she asked softly. “What you’re looking at is the best estimate our brightest minds and artists could come up with, based on the roughly 37 percent that has been mapped and recorded one way or another over thousands of years,” Hescan explained. “The world viper finally seeks to expand his kingdom to the surface, even making war with the devil himself. There are several variables that keep the underworld subdued, but little can be done once Anri-Vex truly engages. He’s all over Harth by now.”

  Iris was listening, but she was far more interested in the holograms. She saw where many of these massive tunnels and caverns ultimately connected. Then the map seemed to go into a steep drop beyond which was no animation. “They didn’t try to come up with something here?” she asked. Hescan isolated the area on the map, then brought up three terrifying images. “These are the largest three breeds of arachnid produced by Dom’rel’s darkness,” he explained.

  The first was the Ijuk-agile, a smooth-bodied breed with acidic webs and fangs that could extend five yards to snag prey. From fangs to spinner, its body is 15 yards. With its legs fully straight, it stands at 15 feet.

  The second was the Amm’kur’a-fat, a hairy, flesh-eating saliva that produced toxic egg sacs. The largest recorded weighed just over 15,000 pounds.

  The third was a Zook’jakkat, which was low to the ground and heavily armored in serrated chitin. It had two massive pincers that could crush heavy knights like tin; and its tails, tipped with a scythe-like stinger that could act as a detachable biological weapon, could break down walls in a single swing.

  Then the skycaller presented a fourth image that made Iris’ eyes grow wide as she took a small step back. This spider was large enough to look as if it could stand against the other three. “We’re assuming the one that has been documented is somewhere in the middle, size-wise,” Hescan stated. “An example of the creatures we believe are the last barrier before Anri’s coil, this one was found almost 1,500 years ago and has remained the only one ever seen by live eyes. Rumor is they actually drove the monster back, but I believe that particular regiment lost 77 percent of its company—420 souls in all.”

  Iris walked closer to the image, staring at the monster’s haunting hundreds of eyes. It had fangs and feelers on four parts of its body. She read details about how its body was fused with magnetized corestone and how it carried Anri-Vex’s own venom. “That’s where the antibody came from,” she gasped.

  The skycaller nodded. “The gland that was recovered can produce countless numbers of immunizers, but they take quite a while to produce,” he said with a smile. “Why were my parents taken?” Iris asked quietly. “On the surface, we are selective with whom we work,” Hescan replied. “That made your parents somewhat exclusive retainers of otherwise unavailable information. The good news is they most likely were not taken to Emi-Shet.”

  Hescan saw the look in Iris’ eye, knowing what she was about to ask. “I don’t know if your parents are alive, child,” he remarked. “Where would they be?” Iris demanded. “For your own sake, I’d rather not give you wild guesses,” the skycaller replied. “Be patient, young priestess. You cannot let yourself be amalgamated into the chaos around us.”

  Iris bowed her head, and the skycaller returned the gesture. “Find some books that take your fancy,” Hescan suggested. “I promise that I can at least return with more information regarding your parents.” Iris was weary of such a statement, but she did her best to trust the elf’s words.

  Sloth had become a temporary member of Bazmari’s family. He hadn’t many relatives before any of this began, and those he did have were now assumed lost. He took well to the children, making them some rather fascinating toys with his gift. Even if the children were overrunning Sloth, he served as a source of entertainment. This gave Bazmari and his wife some time to step back and just enjoy the fact that they were alive.

  Sloth’s spare time was spent browsing for anything new with which a cog might want to play, happily finding access to an assortment of magical components and new materials. He bribed the kids to accompany him and haul his purchases around--but he paid them well.

  Maymay was sitting atop Tidus, riding around the current portion of the city in which she’d found herself, obviously drawing quite a bit of attention. The terrani waved as they passed. They were fond of the Ser’ja’s soft fur and often ran their hands through it. “Am I going to go insane down here,” she asked herself, curiously looking about. “It’s tranquil and kind of pretty, but---“

  Then Tidus took off running down the street. Maymay shrieked as she held on for dear life. “TIDUS!” she yelled. “STOP! RIGHT NOW! RIGHT NOW, DAMMIT!” Over and over she pleaded, but the marvelous beast just kept running. HAH! Crowds hollered and parted as the Ser’ja barreled through—indeed, quite an amusing sight.

  Tidus came to a sudden halt. Maymay released her death grip and slowly slid down the beast, staggering as her feet touched the ground. She looked back at whatever it was that her furry friend thought was so important. It was a female Ser’ja lying at the other end of a long reflecting pool.

  The other beast had a much whiter and redder coat, and it was lying down among a cluster of small buildings. “Seriously!” Maymay scolded. “Fine. Go,” she scoffed. Tidus looked down at her, with his tail wagging once every few seconds. “I have to walk you over there?” Maymay asked with exasperation. She walked with Tidus around the beautiful pool until they came to the other end. All Tidus did was lie down next to the other Ser’ja. It would appear to any bystander that they knew each other. Maymay just looked puzzled.

  She approached the female and gently rubbed her snout. “Don’t you steal my friend away. He’s too young for love,” she stated, not actually knowing anything about the Ser’ja’s lifespan. Maymay heard a woman laugh. Then a beautiful terrani lass came into sight from one of the buildings.

  “Incredible,” the woman stated. “This mastiff took to you.” “Well, we saved him,” Maymay said innocently. The lady nodded in agreement. “But, where is he each morning?” she asked. Maymay blushed. “Parked outside my door.” The woman rubbed Tidus and smiled. “I can’t believe we actually have a male and a female,” she exclaimed excitedly. “These wonderful creatures may actually live on.”

  As Maymay considered the idea, she became overjoyed. “THAT MEANS THERE WILL BE BABIES,” she hollered, causing both Ser’jas to cock their heads back at the outburst. “Well, give them time,” the lady replied with a chuckle. “They’re both relatively young. Your Tidus may be some years younger than Mia, but he certainly is a prime of his species. You have a right to pride yourself in saving him,” she said with a comforting smile.

  “Is Mia yours?” Maymay asked. The lady laughed. “She doesn’t really belong to anyone, but she certainly likes to hang around here.” “How did you get her down here,” Maymay inquired. The woman rested her forehead on the side of the female Ser’ja. “We saved her,” she said with a kind grin.

  CHAPTER NINE

  There’s a Soul in There

  The imperial soldier in the cage (the girl from the royal corridor and the half-breed Fo’hemut) had surrendered herself at the right time, not even caring about militaristic repercussions. The girl had finally been brought before a terrani high council and other officials.

  “
Sophia Murano,” a terrani colonel began. “You’re a royal legionnaire. It takes quite a bit of hardening to achieve such a position. I must say I’m curious how a young woman achieved such a rank within the imperial war machine. Did you believe in the god that you guarded?” he inquired with subtle hostility.

  Sophia had remained stone-faced and motionless, but the back of her neck twitched when the terrani colonel hurled his last question. “She may as well be a damned machine,” the colonel shouted. “Is it really worth giving these people mercy?” The chamber fell silent for a moment.

  “You still called them ‘people,’ Colonel,” said a terrani ghostdancer, then turning his attention to their captive. “Not all of the mongrels are looking to just save their skins. I think at least this one may be looking for true redemption.” Sophia lowered her head a little, trying to hide her eyes. “There’s no use killing those who would be willing to fight for us in this unprecedented struggle,” the ghostdancer added, “and maybe mend a few souls along the way as we are instructed.”

  The ghostdancer could feel and “see” that Sophia had taken part in the mass murder of the believers in Emi-Shet. He could practically see the blood splattered all over her. Sophia truly was a curious case. She looked like a killer, but she also looked dead and defeated. The half-breed barely moved at all, utterly compliant, while weapons remained beaded on her. “Can I ask that you say something. Anything?” the ghostdancer asked politely.

  “Is there a bed in my cell? I feel really tired,” she replied quietly, never looking directly at anyone. The ghostdancer smirked, then glanced at the ranking council. One nodded his head and Sophia was taken into terrani custody and care.

  Artimus had begun his work with Sahja, already making some minor progress in controlling the rush triggered by the saturated netherstreams. Artimus himself seemed to have a mastery over runic magic, allowing him to further manipulate the nether around them. Sahja was tiring quickly though with these early exercises. His body was not adapted to this sort of power and output.

  Fiaria watched, trying her best not to flinch at each clash of the bloodlions’ swords. She’d never seen Sahja like this. She’d never seen these almost demonic eyes before. Sahja dropped his sword altogether and fell to his knees unable to breathe. The maverick had a high pain tolerance for a man, but even he couldn’t bear his current pain.

  “Ah, good,” Artimus remarked. “Your lung capacity is probably adjusting itself. You’ll find that your body will undergo very minor metamorphosis during battle. One example is the expansion of your chest cavity. Give it time. There are literally growing pains in this process.” Sahja gave a gesture with his hand to say, “Ok.” Artimus sheathed his blade. “I could use a bath. You really got me working, boy,” he exclaimed happily.

  It would take Sahja several minutes to normalize his breathing and for his body to readjust. Artimus could see the look of confusion in Fia’s eyes as he passed. “He’s the same man he always has been, and that’s always been the case,” he said reassuringly. Kat handed a container of water to Fia and nodded towards Sahja. “Be a rock for him,” she said. “Don’t let their strength make you think they’re invincible.”

  So Fia took the water over and sat with Sahja while their hosts left for home. Sahja sat against a massive root, still in some discomfort, but able to greet Fia with the best smile one could under such circumstances. She sat beside the bloodlion and rested her head on his shoulder.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Wandered into What

  Swae, Genri, and Xavus were not far from their stop in Ven’Qi. As they came to a halt, Swae asked, “Why did you stop?” “There’s nothing in front of us,” Xavus replied, “just a bunch of trees.” Swae motioned with her finger, slamming Xavus’ foot on the accelerator. Genri and Xavus shouted in terror as the vehicle barreled towards the tree line, and they continued screaming as they drove THROUGH the phantasmal trees.

  The vehicle came to a slow rolling stop in a small village. There were several curious “beings” there that heard the screams and now looked at the two men with tilted heads. They wore long coats and robes with large floppy wizard hats that covered their heads. They had bushy tails, long floppy ears that often touched the ground, and they stood upright about three feet on their tiny paws. Their faces were hidden by their baggy attire, with only a visor between their hats and coats.

  “Where the hell are we?” Genri uttered. Swae was already hugging every nearby villager, speaking as if to a baby in the angelic tongue. Xavus and Genri were looking at a map and having an increasingly in-depth debate as to their whereabouts. Then there was a knock on the car door.

  The two looked over to see one of the villagers waving at them. “Are we supposed to follow it?” Xavus asked. “Is it even looking at us?” he added curiously. “Well, clearly Swae had no problem leaving us here,” Genri replied, stepping out of his side of the vehicle. Xavus paused for a moment, not noticing that the tiny villager that was at his door hadn’t yet cleared away. When Xavus swung open his door, he knocked the critter out cold. Xavus uttered a few curses, eventually laying the villager in the back seat of the car and doing his best to casually step away from the scene.

  Xavus hurried to join up with Genri, doing a quick check to see if anyone had witnessed what had happened, but he seemed to be in the clear for now. “Where’d the guy go?” Genri asked. Xavus just shrugged.

  The village was fairly to scale with its inhabitants, except for a few structures that taller humanoids would have to crouch through. There was a temple that seemed to have been built with regular people in mind. Swae already had a villager on her shoulders and a crowd of the shrouded critters around her. If one listened carefully enough, you could hear the faint squeaks these “beings” made.

  The Pawparosi are an enchanted race, a biproduct of location and otherworldly forces. This village is one of a kind, populated by only forty-three of these shorties.

  Swae went into the church, and her companions followed. She went to the back of the building and down a deep spiral stair to a lone crypt. The place had no decorations or altars, only overgrowth and wax from burnt-out candles. “Such a lowly place,” Genri commented, “or is it humble?” “Off the map seems appropriate for any of this,” Xavus uttered.

  Swae knocked on the tomb, and there was a returned knock. Swae brushed the heavy stone lid aside and what arose was quite a sight. His head was a skull; but his armor, though weathered and worn, was that of an angel. The “being” stretched and moaned with satisfaction. “Hey, big sis,” he said casually. “What brings you to this little nook? And where did you find a troll that big around here?” he added, referring to Genri.

  Xavus and Genri were speechless at this sight. These two were well-studied, but never has a skeletal angel been officially recorded. Dan’el had a bit of trouble rolling out of his tomb, causing his armor to clank and rattle loudly. Some of the Pawparosi were rushing around trying to keep the angel standing. Finally, he did gain his bearing.

  “Sorry,” he said lightheartedly. “But when you’re sedated for a thousand years, your body tends to hate you for it.” “What happened to you?” Xavus asked. “It’s that whole saying about flying too close to the sun,” Dan’el replied. “I had a mission. I completed my mission, but then I started having myself too good of a time. It really is easy to slip up here these days,” he explained in his natural unprofessional manner.

  “This is our secret weapon?” Genri inquired, glancing at the angel now vigorously stretching as if he were about to run a marathon. “He’s not on Dom’rel’s radar and he’s a healthy candidate for redemption,” Swae said with her cool confidence. “I don’t suppose there’s any way to get a new cape,” Dan’el asked abruptly, examining his rotted and hole-filled cloak. “I suppose we should get you prettied up at least,” Swae remarked. “I want my bomb to sparkle.”

  “Hell, yeah,” Dan’el replied in kind. “Bomb?” Xavus aske
d curiously. “What exactly do you mean by ‘bomb?’” Swae puffed her pipe as the Pawparosi took measurements of the angel’s armor. “Doesn’t concern you,” she replied with playful spite. “We’re standing in the room. How can it not concern us?” Genri protested. “The rabbit people are measuring his armor, but that doesn’t mean they’re in the actual mission,” Swae replied mockingly.

  “Hey!” Dan’el exclaimed. “Can I wrestle the troll?” Before Genri could even process the request, Swae had agreed. The angel leapt yards to tackle the troll to the ground. In an amusing sort of way, it was quite an odd sight; but I’m glad to say that Genri eventually gained the upper hand.

  Dan’el found himself unable to move underneath the troll, who was rather tuckered out himself. Swae laughed. “Can I pick em’ or what?” “Fair enough,” Dan’el grunted as he tapped the dirt floor. The Pawparosi had already taken the measurements to the resident forge-master, so the company returned outside where the illusionary magic provided a refreshing blue sky.

  “How long will it take for these creatures to craft an entire set of armor?” Xavus asked. “They’re just going to restore his existing armor a bit,” Swae replied. The naked skeleton of Dan’el came around the corner and leaned against a beam. “I don’t know if this is awkward or not,” he remarked. “It’s a little strange,” Genri replied casually.

  “How many are there on Harth like you?” Xavus asked. “I couldn’t say,” Dan’el replied. “Once we cross a certain threshold, we’re essentially in the blind. I couldn’t have told you Swae was on the planet until she knocked on that rock back there.” Xavus didn’t hear the tiny feet charging from behind him. It was too late when the Pawparosi he’d KO’d was practically wrapped around his head, harmlessly pounding away.