The Maker of Entropy

by John Triptych

  Puffs of reddish mist began to emanate from the tiny holes in the flooring of her cage. Miri instinctively tried to push at the circular walls of the enclosure, pressing her palms against its crystalline surface. The pain seemed nothing more than tiny pinpricks at first, when the rising mists began stinging her feet and legs, before steadily rising until their swirling, gaseous haze completely enveloped the capsule’s interior.

  The agony began to increase exponentially, as the mild stings soon transformed themselves into pure torment. Miri started screaming when it felt like countless little creatures were trying to eat their way past her skin, to gnaw greedily into her insides with every passing second. The pain became so acute, she felt it everywhere, all the way to her very bones.

  She could no longer remember how much time had passed, for each sensation of moment felt like a never ending spasm of misery as her body pleaded with her mind for the pain to stop. By now she was using every drop of Vis to shunt away the alarms emanating across her entire nervous system, but it was no use. Her entire body trembled as she felt like being torn inside out. There didn’t seem to be an end to the torture, and she could not even shed any tears for it seemed like her eyes were on fire, and all she could see were bright flashes of searing pain.

  Her mind was numb and she could no longer think clearly. The never ending agony was driving her mad. Miri screamed out loud, saying she could no longer take it, but it was clear no one heard her pleas. Her life flashed before her eyes, like photographic scenes etched forever in her memories. When her final recollections of Rion entered her mind, a tinge of hope began to spread forth, growing from an insignificant seed, into a longing that strengthened her will.

  Fighting past the endless waves of agony, Miri focused on the one thing that mattered, driving a tiny drop of Vis past the pain and forming it into an unassailable tower of will to support her shattered thoughts. Soon enough, the doors in her mind were opened, revealing a path would only lead to a far-reaching certainty in a sea of fathomless occurrences. Deep inside of her, something began to stir.

  Rion opened his eyes and sat up. He had felt something, like a cry for help manifesting in his mind and pleaded with him to do something. Despite feeling light-headed, the boy leapt off the bed and nervously looked around. He was in a strange room of floating crystals, and the last thing he could remember was making a run across the subterranean city towards the side of the canal.

  He could tell she wasn’t in the room with him, and his concern for her began gnawing at his mind. “Miri?”

  Despite not having the gift of mindsense, Rion reached out with his thoughts, hoping Miri’s own gift of Vis would be able to find him. While walking towards the exit, his mind was suddenly assailed by a sudden mental cry for help. It was Miri, and she was under attack.

  “Miri!” Rion’s eyes opened wide as he dashed past the exit and came out into a corridor. The sudden thought flash entering his mind had occurred but for a brief moment, but now it was his own self that seemed to know where she was. He quickly sprinted down the corridor until he got to another doorway with an open glass partition.

  When he rushed inside, the boy’s heart sank as he saw what lay in the center of the room.

  Miri lay curled up in the floor of the cylindrical enclosure, her skin and hair soaked with blood. The boy let out a cry of despair as he ran up to where she was, his small fists pounding on the glass walls of the capsule, trying desperately to find a way inside.

  Tears flowed down Rion’s flushed cheeks, his hands continuing to strike at the transparent crystal, but to no avail. The boy’s knees buckled, for the nightmare he had been dreading had finally come true, and he slumped down beside her. “Miri!”

  Chapter 24

  The staging area for the entire rebel faction was nothing more than a small archipelago of scattered rock outcroppings. Each of the respective tribes had moored their sand sails together into small clusters, their leaders converging inside a wind-carved central cavern to confer their plans. Lord Vorconis, along with his aide Bugurt and his two eldest sons, entered through one of the many outlying tunnels and made their way into the chamber as the sun stood at its highest, forcing columns of heated air through the honeycombed fissures of the cave.

  Zeren sat on a small boulder along with Orilion. Beside them stood Captain Fytys, leader of the pirate fleet and official representative of their Council. To their left sat Chief Cinil, along with several of his men. The leader of the Tooan also represented the smaller allied tribes, and his words would be their own. The six men sitting at the opposite side were the delegates of the formerly neutral tribes, led by the chiefs of the Gyawigo and Thethtulors. All of them rose to their feet as Vorconis entered the central cavern, with the exception of one. Only Zeren remained seated as he wiped a speck of dust from his cloak.

  Orilion glanced at Zeren, using his eyes to tell him to rise, but the outlaw Magus ignored him.

  Cinil extended his hand, palm outward, in a gesture of greeting. “All hail Lord Vorconis.”

  The others cheered while Zeren looked away, his mind preoccupied by the wineskin he had left behind in the hold of the pirate sand sail. Bugurt glanced briefly in his direction, while his lord bade the others to sit back down.

  “My respective chiefs, I would like to thank you all for heeding my call,” Vorconis said. “For it is at this meet that we shall decide the future of the Khanate.”

  Chief Egyn of the Gyawigo stood up and raised his hand. While not as physically imposing as the other chiefs due to his lanky frame, he was known to have a sharp mind. “My lord, I would like to inquire as to the whereabouts of the Khan’s son Lorrt and of his bond brother Tozhem, son of Wulfgen. We have heard they are with you, and should they not be included in this gathering?”

  “I am sure you have all heard the rumors by now, and it is indeed true,” Vorconis said. “Tozhem was tragically killed when Lorrt made his escape from the clutches of the Khatun.”

  A few gasps were heard from the neutral tribes. Cinil looked away while pirate Captain Fytys raised an eyebrow. Zeren had already been told days before, and he studied their reactions closely.

  Egyn raised his hand once more. “If Wulfgen’s son is dead, then surely we have lost all pretense of a possible negotiated peace, this will certainly be war now, yes?”

  Vorconis nodded. “It shall be a war of annihilation. This is the reason why I have requested your group’s presence in this conclave, for you must now choose the path of either being allies with us, or be treated as one of the enemy.”

  Maskul, chief of the Thethtulors, stood up. “Lord Vorconis, this killing was a very rash act. The many tribes in the Khanate have no desire for war, yet you have forced us to choose sides because of this.”

  “It was not I who killed Tozhem,” Vorconis said. “Nor was it I who hatched the plot to attack the Zaash during a night of feasting. But how it began is of no matter to us. What is now important is we must deal with this crisis as swiftly as possible.”

  Cinil stood up. “The time has come for the passing of the Khanate leadership to one who is most capable. We grieve for the loss of Khan Dural, but we all know what a wicked woman his wife is. Therefore I move we form a new Khanate, this time under the leadership of Lord Vorconis.”

  “While I am certain Lord Vorconis is truly able to serve as a great Khan of these lands,” Egyn said. “This coming war will cause unimaginable suffering for us all. We should avert conflict and separate ourselves peacefully from the Khatun.”

  Cinil snorted. “Do you honestly believe Chief Wulfgen will not take steps to avenge the death of his son? The Zaash carry grudges for generations. It is better we destroy them once and for all. Our combined fleets have the numbers, and this is our best opportunity we have.”

  Maskul gestured at the small group of pirates sitting at the opposite side. “Why are they a part of this? My tribe has suffered from their many raids against our sand sails, and now we must count them as allies too?”

  �
�We need their fleet,” Vorconis said tersely. “The greater our numbers, the easier our victory shall be against the Khatun.”

  Captain Fytys stood up and spat on the ground. “We were asked to be here. If we are not wanted, we can just as well leave you all to your petty rivalries.”

  Bugurt held his palms up in a gesture of reconciliation. “My dear lords and chiefs, I am sure we can start anew once the Khatun has been dealt with. Any grievances with the … pirates … may be remedied at a later time through pacts and pledges.”

  Egyn shook his head. “While I do not doubt the ferocity of our newest allies, the truth remains the pirates are opposed to the Exalted. If the Exalted unleashes their forces against us, it will not matter what numbers we have- we shall all be crushed under their heels.”

  “By the time the Exalted realize we have the pirates as allies it shall all be over,” Vorconis said. “The Exalted will be forced to accept the new Khanate that shall rise from the ashes of the old. The old pacts will stay as before, and it is all what the Maker wants.”

  “We shall never offer our youth for sacrifice to the Maker,” Captain Fytys said.

  “Then you shall all be slaughtered when the Exalted demand your heads,” Egyn said softly.

  Captain Fytys scowled at him. “You have all tried to annihilate us for countless cycles yet we still stand, stronger than ever! Let us see you try once more.”

  Vorconis kicked a nearby boulder to get their attention. “Enough of this bickering! Once I am elected Khan the pirates may choose to become part of the Khanate or to continue to dwell in the outlands- away from the prying eyes of the Exalted, but there shall be peace and no more raiding in exchange for trade.”

  A shrill voice reverberated across the cavern interior. “You? Khan? I will be the next Khan!”

  Everyone turned. Standing at the far side of the chamber, near the entrance was Lorrt. The youth’s right hand rested on a holstered flintlock pistol by his side.

  Zeren placed his hand over his mouth, suppressing the urge to smile. Earlier that day, he had sneaked aboard the sand sail Lorrt had been traveling in, and discreetly told the inebriated youth about the meet that was to take place at noon. Lorrt had sobered up quickly, and they both devised a plan for him to slip away from Vorconis’s spies and to make himself present at the conclave.

  Vorconis was livid with rage. “How dare you interrupt this conclave! You have not been invited here!”

  Lorrt strode forward, the fermented wine in his stomach giving him just enough courage to speak up against his more intimidating uncle. “According to the ancient rights of succession, the first born son of the Khan is the rightful heir to the Khanate. With my father dead, the title of Khan belongs to me! You are nothing but a usurper!”

  Vorconis’s two sons, Sudrent and Ratunt, bared their teeth in anger. Sudrent, the eldest, strode forward and began to draw his blade. “I will cut off that blackened tongue of yours, Lorrt.”

  The leader’s eldest son stopped mid-stride, when Zeren used his Vis to propel himself forward, suddenly appearing in front of him. Sudrent gasped in surprise as he realized the Magus had his hand pushing on Sudrent’s sword arm, preventing him from completely drawing out his saber.

  Zeren gave the astonished youth a wicked smile. “This is neither the time nor the place, boy.”

  Egyn raised his palm in a gesture of calmness. “Truce, my friends. When the conclave is called upon, there can be no violence here. Let us hear what the departed Khan’s son has to say.”

  Vorconis held his own temper in check as he held up his hand. “Sudrent, return to me.”

  Sudrent scowled briefly at Zeren before turning around and moving back towards his father’s side. Zeren walked back to where he had been sitting, all eyes briefly observing him. A single bead of sweat inched down Lorrt’s forehead as he too began to relax.

  Orilion quickly stood beside Zeren and lowered his shoulders so he could whisper into the Magus’s ear. “What have you done?”

  “I merely wanted to add a bit of intrigue to this meet,” Zeren said softly.

  Gathering up his courage once more, Lorrt cleared his throat. “As heir to my father’s legacy, I ask any tribe with any honor left in them to come join me, and I shall rule wisely as the new Khan of these lands.”

  Cinil eyed him contemptuously. “You? All your life has been spent drinking wine into a stupor and enjoying the Khanate’s worldly pleasures. You have neither the experience, nor the respect of any of the tribes. It is better you abdicate, and name your uncle as the new Khan.”

  “Chief Cinil speaks the truth, Lorrt,” Vorconis said, making sure his voice remained diplomatic in order to woo the others. “It is better I assume the mantle of Khan. The tribes respect me, and I have had the practice of rulership for many cycles now.”

  “I may lack the experience, but I shall grow into my position,” Lorrt said. “In time I too will gain the knowledge and wisdom to rule. The Khanate is mine by tradition, for it is these ancient pacts that hold us together. Without them we are lost.”

  Egyn raised his hand. “Your words speak wise truth, my young lord. Yet Vorconis holds a very good argument, for he has proved himself as a respected leader. Let me ask you, if we were to support you as Khan, how would you deal with the Khatun and Chief Wulfgen?”

  Lorrt paused for a bit to gather his thoughts. “The Khatun is my mother. If there is anyone she would yield to, it shall be to me. Many of her guardsmen know of me, and I shall sway them over to my side without a fight.” He pointed towards Vorconis. “The only reason she has declared herself ruler is because of my rebellious uncle here. When she hears I am safe and well, she will relinquish her title.”

  Cinil scoffed. “You accused your own mother of being a whore to Wulfgen. My own men heard you utter those very words before you gave the signal to attack the Zaash at the feast. All of it was your doing.”

  Vorconis nodded. “Wulfgen and the Khatun planned to depose you, Lorrt. I have been your guardian since the day you were born. There is a better chance for us to win if you give consent and support me as Khan.”

  “If I may,” Egyn said raising his hand once more to interrupt. “I believe we can compromise. Might I suggest we make Lord Vorconis the regent until this issue of succession is resolved at a later time?”

  Cinil frowned. “What? Lord Vorconis will only be regent? For how long?”

  “Until the war is won,” Egyn said. “With this arrangement, we can stay united as one group. Is not the defeat of the Khatun and her allies but our first concern?”

  Cinil pushed himself up from his sitting rock. “What? But where is the support for Lorrt as Khan? I do not see it!”

  Egyn crossed his arms and stood up, making an acknowledging nod to Chief Maskul, who bowed back in return. “I can speak for the unaligned tribes, and we shall lend our support to Lorrt as Khan, along with Lord Vorconis as regent.”

  Cinil arched his eyebrows in disgust before glancing over to Vorconis, whose own face remained impassive. It was a classic political maneuver, for if the neutral tribes had pledged their support to Vorconis, then his power would have been absolute. By backing Lorrt, they had affectedly deadlocked the alliance so no single faction within it held complete authority over the others.

  Vorconis knew he had been outmaneuvered. All he could do in the meantime was to play along until the time came for him to rid himself of all his rivals. He still had the upper hand when it came to the strengths of his fleet, and Lorrt could easily be disposed of in the future. He just needed to be patient. “Very well,” he said tersely. “I accept this agreement.”

  For the first time in many days, a smile crept across Lorrt’s face. He turned to look at Vorconis and arched his back to appear somewhat taller. “Then as our old custom dictates, you are to kneel before your new khan and pledge your allegiance.”

  Cinil’s eyes grew wide. Of all the indignities they had to suffer, it came down to this? Glancing at Vorconis, he held his breath to see what his
main ally would do.

  A brief flash of anger crossed Vorconis’s eyes, yet he knew what had to be done. Flashing brief looks of patience to his two sons, he got to one knee and bowed slightly. His voice was loud, yet carried no emotion. “Hail Lorrt, Khan of the Sea of Dunes, leader of all the tribes. I offer you my support as regent. I swear to protect your honor and obey your commands.”

  Lorrt couldn’t help but grin widely. “My thanks, Lord Regent. For now, my first decree is of an eventide of feasting, followed by—”

  The youth’s statement was quickly interrupted when Vorconis, Cinil and the rest of their group quickly filed out of the chamber.

  Lorrt’s triumph quickly turned to rage, he shook am angry fist at the departing group. “Stop! I have not yet dismissed any of you!”

  Egyn walked up to the young Khan, a disarming smile on his face. “You have already gotten much this day, my khan. Let them vent their frustrations away so they may fight well by your side in the coming battle.”

  Lorrt let out a deep breath. “You speak the truth, Chief Egyn. I … welcome your wise counsel in matters such as this.”

  Egyn gestured at Lorrt to follow him as they both started to head out of the cavern. Maskul and the remaining tribal leaders also stood up and followed them towards the exit. After a few moments, only the pirate and Lethean factions remained.

  Orilion turned to look at Captain Fytys. “And what do you make of all this?”

  Captain Fytys shook his head in disgust. “Even a blind man can see they shall be at each other’s throats once the Khatun has been defeated. My own group shall remain as pariahs, and they may very well turn on us before they betray each other. But for now, the Council has asked we respect the pact of truce, but I fear we are at a tremendous disadvantage.”

  Zeren had been quiet for a long while when he stood up and stretched his arms. “Perhaps not.”

  Both men turned to look at him.