“My lord, are you alright?” asked
Nessha as she immediately knelt next to the small figure.
“I can’t move, it’s like
something is draining away all of my strength and it’s not being very delicate
about it,” said Zendrius in obvious pain.
“Could this
be due to fulfilling one of the conditions?” asked Aeon.
“I’m not
sure, this is the first condition I have fulfilled intentionally. Nessha, be a dear and go find my uncle. I’m no expert, but I’d say something is
wrong.”
Without
saying a word Nessha sprinted into the forest and Aeon protectively stood over
his new lord; for although the horde had pledged their allegiance to the boy,
his current weakened state invoked powerful predatory instincts, instincts
which could overwhelm the relatively young or weak of mind.
Minutes
dragged into hours as they waited and just when Aeon was about to take Zendrius
into the Garden himself to search for the Agrarian, Nessha appeared at the edge
of the forest. She rushed over
and quickly scooped up the heavy breathing boy.
“I’ve been
instructed to bring him into the Garden,” was all she said before launching
herself into the air and then darting into the orange and gold flora.
The Agrarian
watched Nessha land with amusement and then motioned to the intricate circle of
symbols. The winged woman quickly
placed Zendrius at its centre and stood silently by as the Agrarian weaved the
appropriate signs. The three-dimensional
projection of the seal materialised and the serpentine Dannar touched one of
the spheres; releasing the dome of spiralling runes.
“Oh, I missed that,” said the
Agrarian after several minutes of musing.
“What?”
croaked Zendrius.
“I misinterpreted
something regarding the conditions you need to fulfil. It seems I had the order correct, but not the
intervals between them. Each condition
was supposed to be satisfied in immediate succession. Now that it is not, your body is drawing
energy from yourself instead of the million souls you were expected to have for
the transformation.”
“Great, you
wouldn’t happen to have a million souls lying around here somewhere?” said
Zendrius with a weak smile.
“I do admit
that I am partly responsible for your current state, but I’ll not be giving you
a million souls.”
“Ok then, what
will happen if I don’t get those souls?”
“Your
condition will gradually worsen until the transformation has no more energy
left to feed from.”
Zendrius
didn’t need to be told that would only be the case when he is dead. “Nessha, take me back to Aeon and the
others. Quickly.”
“When will I get to see Zed?
It’s been, I don’t know how many cycles since I woke up in that
bed. I can’t even be sure you really are
his mother.”
Alyza regretted her words the
instant they left her mouth and desperately avoided the fierce cerise eyes
glaring at her.
“Listen
here girl, my son’s purpose is of great consequence to this realm and I’ve sacrificed
a great deal for him. I do not care what
you think, but you’d be wise to care what I think. Those I disapprove of tend to be short-lived.”
Alyza
stumbled backwards at the threat since she knew all too well it was more than
just empty words.
Persephone smirked
at the reaction before leaving the room.
The
metamorphosed girl fell onto her bed. “I
wonder what he is doing right now.”
“Just strap me to his back dammit!” said Zendrius in what
should have been a firm commanding voice, but came out as barely a hoarse whisper.
“Yes, my
lord,” said Nessha she placed him gently on Aeon’s back.
“So you are
sure we’ll find a Pit of Despair at this spot you mentioned?”
“Many
believe that each Pit of Despair appears entirely at random within Los-Reinar. But the location I mentioned earlier has
spawned a majority of them throughout the omegia.”
“I’ll cross
my extremely weak fingers then.”
Aeon and
Nessha looked at each other confused before he added, “It is a human expression
for wishing for the best possible outcome.”
“Then we
will all cross our extremely weak fingers,” said Aeon sincerely.
Zendrius chuckled. “I appreciate that. We should probably travel to your spot in a
smaller group, to minimise Oriax’s toll.”
“I’d advise
against it, Zendrius. Pits of Despair
are usually ferocious battlefields, since all desire the souls within them.”
“Wonderful,
that shifty-eyed bastard is going to love this.”
Zendrius stared at the strange ocean of snow-white
luminescent liquid. “What is this realm
called?”
“Shinra,
very few even know of its existence,” said Aeon as he lead the horde onward.
“Which Tier
calls it home?”
“None, it
is a fringe realm. Los-Reinar has a
great many realms within it, and despite the long existence of the Tiers, new
realms are still discovered. This has
spawned a belief among some that God still works within Los-Reinar, honing it
to perfection.”
“Intresting.”
“Everyone
be on guard, we are nearing the location I spoke of,” said the ancient durandal.
They
started to pass massive craters, each roughly the size of an average city on
Earth. Everywhere the eye could see were
evidence of previous conflicts; the area almost seemed like a sea of
bones. But despite this ominous scenery,
there wasn’t a soul in sight. They
walked for hours through the lifeless wasteland until Aeon finally stopped the
horde. He didn’t need to say anything,
everyone knew. They have known for the
past hour, but none wanted to say it.
Zendrius
weakly glanced around the desolate plane.
“I’m screwed.”
No comments:
Post a Comment