by Shawn Mackey
These were the six tribes of Kel. Their war raged at a stalemate for countless eons. Casualties were replenished as soon as they were fallen. No clan made an effort to exterminate another, hell bent on sustaining a consistent level of warfare. Victories and defeats were dished out in the same measure. The notion of a supreme conqueror never seemed possible, since the tribal chiefs were invincible, nor would they bend to their foes.
This all changed the day Gar pried Karkrak’s head from his shoulders and proclaimed the imminent supremacy among the other clans. Since no spear point could piece Karkrak’s skull, Gar tied the trophy with rope and wore it as a necklace. Word of the event quickly spread, prompting each chieftain to declare their legitimacy. The clans would unify under a single leader adorned with a wreath decorated by the skulls of his rivals.
To prove Gar possessed only the good fortune of striking the first blow, Narg attacked Floon with the intent of massacring the entire clan. He ordered all iron to be melted and forged into a single ball. His subordinates thought him mad, for they owned enough of the metal to arm every Kel from every clan one hundred times over. The result proved to be even more bizarre. This massive iron ball, towering halfway to the sky and wide enough fit the broadest plains, required immense strength to push. Even worse, their draconian chieftain ordered them to roll it up the steepest hill.
They patiently waited until Floon’s forces marched at the hill’s base. At the decisive moment, Narg signaled his men to assist pushing the iron ball. It tumbled down the slick surface at tremendous speed, rumbling so loudly that the soldiers paused to watch it roll, frozen in a mixture of awe and fear, knowing they were helpless to flee, yet fascinated by the sight.
The ball flattened nearly every Kel, painting the dark gray material into a glistening crimson within seconds. Narg charged down the hill to finish the remaining forces, reaching the bottom in time to witness Floon flee from the massacre, abandoning the survivors of his clan. Narg, seized by an unrestrained fury at his target’s escape, ordered every Kel to chase Floon, leaving behind all the loot, including their caravan and the iron ball, which continued to roll down another hillside, leaving a thick red trail.
Lug rushed to the area to scout the battle. He watched as Narg’s entire clan chased the fleeing Floon, whose mocking laughter echoed over the distant rumbling ball. He slowly approached the aftermath for salvage. Flattened corpses floated in a sea of blood, too fresh to have seeped into the ground. This did not stop Lug from sifting through bits of gore to inspect severed limbs. Many of these seemed peculiarly untouched by the massacre. Upon closer inspection, his observation proved correct. Some bones were left in pristine condition, even if their flesh had been ravaged by the iron. In other cases, not only were the bones intact, but the muscle and sinew and nerves as well
The collected remains proved to be far sturdier than any material. Lug stole the bones of Karkrak from one of Narg’s caravans and tested their strength against steel armor. He clubbed a breastplate, reducing it to dust with a single blow. The older the Kel, the more durable the body. He searched the caravan for any other remains and ordered a large amount of his and any of Floon’s surviving forces to excavate the ground. With the bones at his disposal, he started to work on a new fortress.
After a long and fruitless chase, Narg returned to find the battlefield and his caravans in the process of being picked clean. In a blind rage, he attacked the looters, retrieving most of his possessions. The trail of stolen loot led to a dig site. As Narg prepared to slaughter the busy workers, Lug managed to catch Narg’s attention with a sharp whistle, morphing his anger into confusion. The excavators armed themselves in that brief moment, leaving both clans on equal terms. Though Lug knew he held a superior weapon to Narg, the chieftain knew his rival would be better suited as a temporary ally. The massive collection of bones sprawled across the ground piqued Narg’s curiosity, and he started to realize there was some hidden worth to these objects.
For the first time in Kel history, two chieftains sheathed their weapons to discuss politics. Lug led Narg to the top of a nearby hill so they could view workers. He pointed toward one standing at the rim of the dig site. The worker noticed Lug and Narg staring at him and, frozen in fear, watched as Lug hurled a white spear. The point pierced his chest, passed halfway down the shaft, and stuck firmly into the dirt. The worker, killed the moment of impact, hung limply, skewered on the spear’s shaft. His dead weight did not snap the spear. On the contrary, it slowly sliced up his upper chest, past the shoulders and through the neck, finally parting his skull in two. The weapon had not budged.
Narg was awed by the display. Lug explained his plan to excavate the elder Kel’s bones to fortify an impenetrable citadel and craft weapons powerful enough for even the weakest wielder to slay the chieftains. The spear was Kelkrak’s spine, carved into a weapon by Lug with the help of other bones as tools. Gar and Ennok were currently battling on the other side of the lake. It was better for them to remain ignorant to this development and even better if their skirmish ended with one dead and the other severely weakened, since their remains would be necessary for building the fortress. In the meantime, they would continue craft weapons and scour the ground for more materials.
As a token in good faith, Lug gave the bone spear to Narg, who set out to hunt Floon while his clan assisted in digging and building. After a long night of searching, he returned to his caravan, driven by the usual inexplicable desire to sort through his loot. Moments after he set the spear down, Floon slipped out of the shadows and snatched it away.
Across the lake, the battle between Gar and Ennok waxed and waned, neither chieftain able to gain the upper hand over his opponent long enough to rein victory. They were prepared to remain locked in combat for an eternity, not thinking of a means of winning nor fleeing, but rather focusing on the stalemate. The surrounding Kel battled with equal fervor, some attempting to occasionally aid their chieftain and dying by collateral circumstance. One thousand Kel piled on Ennok, many breaking their bones on his stony hide. He swept away each pest with a single blow, their vast numbers as ineffectual as their weaponry. A torrent of spears flooded the sky, pelting the surrounding Ennok and the surrounding Kel, blanketing the terrain with skewered corpses.
Gar tackled Ennok to the ground, managing to pin him but unable to land a decisive blow. Their positions continually reversed. The two locked in combat while Floon watched from the distance, wondering which warrior to strike with his new weapon. Gar and Ennok did not notice the new adversary, too engrossed in battle to divert their attention. Ennok currently had the advantage over Gar, pummeling him in the face and chest after a slip that had landed Gar on his knees. A tremendous blow to the jaw sent him backward. Ennok prepared to plant his heel into Gar’s abdomen before he could rise. A white spear passed through his back and out his gut. Ennok clasped the gaping hole, unable to suppress warm jets of blood. Gar seized him by the throat and plunged his fist into the wound, clutching onto his entrails and strangling his breath. Ennok collapsed to his knees, sprawling intestines onto the dirt. Gar used both hands to strangle, digging his fingers into Ennok’s sturdy neck, ripping muscle and crushing bone. Even after death, it took several immense tugs to pry his head.
Floon appeared over a collapsed Gar, who was feeling his first pangs of fatigue. This did not stop him from kicking Floon in the knees, knocking him on his back, and pinning him onto the ground with an elbow to the throat. Through choking breath, he begged Gar to search his surroundings and witness the state of his clan. Their numbers, as well as Ennok’s, had been substantially diminished. Gar released Floon, accepting the truce on the condition of a gift. Without stating his desire, he snatched the spear and broke it over his knee, then collected Ennok’s head and placed it alongside Karkrak’s. Floon quickly swiped the tipped end of the broken spear and hid it under his sleeve.
He explained Narg and Lug’s alliance and the construction of their fortress made of bone. It had looked like Gar snapped the spear eff
ortlessly, but it took tremendous strength to do so in a single blow. A fortress layered in such a material would take ages to breach. They left with haste, unable to see the large citadel across the misty lake, forced to walk around the water’s rim to their destination. Due to the immense height of the citadel, the workers were able to spy the approaching clans first, while Gar and Floon could only witness their speedy progress.
Narg knew of their arrival ahead of time, watching from the ramparts as the workers applied a layer of molten steel around the fortress walls. It seemed wasteful to coat an inferior material over a stronger one, but Lug told him the element of surprise would prompt a swift attack. Indeed, both Gar and Floon assumed they arrived before the bone wall’s construction. Their combined forces rushed the front gate, beating at the already cooled steel while the workers tossed buckets of molten metal at the attackers.
Upon seeing Floon distracted in battle, Narg leapt from the ramparts to backstab him and collect the stolen bone spear. Hundreds of other Kel followed his lead, assuming they were about to rout the invaders. Gar barreled through the rushing soldiers, and many noticed their mistake and attempted to climb back up the wall, only to find it too steep. Narg managed to creep up behind Floon, and as his fingers were about to wrench his neck, Gar punched him in the side of the head so hard it sent him hurtling against the gate, splintering the steel coat and revealing pristine white bone. While Narg was in a daze, Gar seized him by the legs and proceeded to batter his body against the gate. With a dozen blows, Narg’s body broke into bloody pieces while the wall did not even crack.
The rival clans stranded outside the fortress pledged themselves to the victors. Before they could attempt to breach the wall, Kel flooded the ramparts and blotted the sky with spears. Gar and Floon fled out of their range to compile their forces and watch their enemy’s next move. Half the citadel’s workers were already expanding the ramparts. Between their rapid progress and armed spearmen, climbing the wall would be impossible.
Gar suggested they begin crafting weapons from the stolen bones. Floon countered with a less practical approach, one guaranteed to gain entry. By digging a tunnel under the citadel, they could attack Lug directly. A small group would dig toward the gate’s other side and open it for the rest to ensure their occupation. The tunnel would take no longer than making the weapons, and they already had half the bone spear to claim easy victory over Lug. Gar praised his ingenious ally, but secretly distrusted Floon, who wielded the broken spear like a dagger. They consulted with the remnants of Narg’s clan on the city’s interior. A few were members of Lug’s clan as well, and knew the exact proportions of the area, and how long the tunnel should spread, and the exact location of the gate’s lever.
The chieftains held a moderate force near the gate to avoid suspicion, while the remaining subordinates dug the tunnel. Floon occasionally engaged with a small amount of Kel to slow their expansion, attacking by night and extinguish the torches, focusing their efforts on eliminating the most effective workers. Lug was too occupied with finishing the citadel to aid the ramparts. Only the roof remained, and by the time their tunnels had been completed, the city was as well.
Floon and Gar led the group of infiltrators through the underground pathway, leaving the bulk of their army atop the nearest hill to await the opening gate. They crawled through the tunnel, turning right at the intersection leading under the citadel, the left leading to the gate. When they reached the dead end and began to dig upward, the distant clash of swords was faintly audible. The tunnel nearly caved in from the sudden collapse of the gate. As Floon, armed with the bone spear, dug the final few inches, he heard Lug shouting in the chamber above.
The two chieftains climbed from beneath the floor, finding themselves in a vast room with a long winding stairway that led to the citadel’s top. Lug ordered the Kel, armed with hammers and working gear, to attack the intruders. Exhausted and wanting of rest, they fled from the citadel, crying out that the city was doomed, for the chieftains had burrowed beyond the wall. They were unaware that the gates had been opened, and an army equal to Lug’s was cutting their way to the citadel.
Lug demanded to face the chieftains in fair combat. Gar did not trust Floon, especially wielding the spear, and grudgingly kept silent. His ally stepped forward, accepting the challenge, brandishing his weapon in ostensible mockery at the unarmed Lug. Lug called Floon a coward and said that he should fight hand-to-hand, as their ancestors had. Without a word, he impaled Lug through the chest, grinding the tip deeper and deeper until it passed through his back.
Gar broke into unrestrained laughter as Floon lamely attempted to pry the spear tip from Lug’s corpse, heaping caustic mockeries, comparing his ally to a newborn and Kay, having survived so far through supreme cowardice. He boasted that Floon would die wielding the bone spear, for if he were to lose against the most inferior among the chieftains, he had no right to sovereignty. Floon, blinded with rage, flew at Gar, who narrowly dodged a fatal blow, the point lodging in his upper thigh. Before Floon could pry it out, Gar seized him by the arm and drew him closer, swiftly tearing off his necklace of severed heads and taking hold of Karkrak’s with his free hand. Floon managed to tear his weapon from Gar’s leg, nearly ripping his leg in two, but took the brunt of his blow to the head, splitting his skull down the middle.
Gar managed to raise himself with the spear, gouts of blood squirting from his leg. The citadel doors flung open, and a milieu of Kel poured inside. He could no longer distinguish them from his foes, for their clans had been wholly assimilated. They saw Gar standing limply over the corpses of Floon and Lug and immediately broke into a deafening cheer praising the strongest of the Kel.
Gar’s first order consisted of two tasks: build a throne atop the citadel, and fortify the city’s ground. When this was finished, he added, the ramparts must touch the sky. The Kel were disappointed, assuming this had been the end of their everlasting conflict. It would be useful to protect themselves from a potential enemy, they concluded, and soothe the wrath of their leader. As promised, he decorated the citadel with a wreath of chieftain skulls, which he fixed his constant gaze upon while sitting on his throne. Once his wound healed, he ordered the useless ornaments to be used in fortifying the city, which he named Nemesis.
But what about the monsters? Where is the island? How about the castle? The first question, initiated by Thomas, opened a floodgate. Fortunately, the day was over. I accomplished nothing of value, but the excitement on their faces stirred a new joy in my heart, a passion that could only be called love. It was the sort of adoration I felt in my childhood, toward my family and friends, dulled for so long that I assumed it had been mistaken for as a categorization rather than an all-encompassing gut reaction that spread like a neural disease.
These children were no longer unwashed in my eyes. Their gaze of wonderment and utter absorption throughout the story gave a new sense of security. The terror from the past few days had become a dim memory. As class dismissed, the children left giddily, excited to return tomorrow.
So what happens next? I know how it ends, but like the others, you must wait for our next conversation. This one felt less one-sided than usual. Is that so strange?
Entry 21
I may be enjoying my newfound creations too much. I told Aiden about Nemesis, the city of bones, and was met with feigned smiles and terse nods. Imagine a city literally built by the bodies of your ancestors. In that context, it sounds a bit morbid, though tame compared to their mating policy. These stories did not contain the usual lessons meant for children, which was why they were begging for more the next morning. Why do I feel compelled to write out the whole thing here? The third act still eludes me. Jotting it all down may ignite the Muse’s inspiration. For myself, at this point. The children seemed bored by the end of today. Still, how will it all end?
Any Kel who did not work on the city was traveling the land, excavating the bones of their ancestors. Few had lived prior to the Clan War, merely setting to the ta
sk because it was their duty. Those who had survived countless generations, unaccustomed to the absence of war, killed their fellow workers over better discoveries. Without law, small skirmishes occasionally erupted through the land, nearly reviving tribal warfare.
A Kel named Yod, eldest surviving son of Floon, made an aggressive effort to end these skirmishes, emphasizing that they should unite rather than continue perpetual combat and thin out their bloodline. Joined by Agrippa and Duncan, sons of Ennok, the three succeeded in gaining a following. Among these were Panagon, son of Lug, and Laine, son of Narg. These two were the most notorious looters, uniting with Yod’s group because of their strength rather than ideals. They acquired immense renown for bringing order outside the city.
The forest surrounding the lake had rapidly spread vegetation throughout the previously arid landscape, growing especially thick at the origin. This created many difficulties for excavation, since many areas no longer resembled the former locations. In some cases, forests were torn down, only to discover an empty dig site. The confusion did not stop the dedicated excavators, but certainly brought the unenthused back to the city, including many bandits.
Conditions were no better inside Nemesis. The inferior workers were tossed from the citadel by Gar, or merely executed on the spot if his mood was exasperated enough. Personal quarrels were settled through hand-to-hand combat. Petty squabbling was a serious offense on par with theft and murder. The better workers were treated like royalty. To offend one would rouse the wrath of Gar. This did not take much—a Kel was once executed for pausing to sneeze.
