Zarthos
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135 - Pulling Strings From the Void
🕑 Added 2025-01-22 16:50:02 +0000 UTCAt the edge of the void, on an altar floating over a grey abyss, three dried-up corpses faced each other. The eternity of time left vestiges on their skin, deep crevasses that told stories of the eons they had lived.
"He is getting bolder," one of the men said, the Second of the three. His voice was hoarse and dry, yet the strength hidden within each word couldn't be denied. "Does he truly think he can deny our God's will?"
“Just another foolish lamb blinded by the hubris of youth,” another added, the Third. He was shaking his head. “It may be time to replace him. There are many waiting to take his place.”
“Unfortunately, none can truly come close to him,” the Second replied. "He is the most talented of his generation, remember? This was the reason our God chose him..."
“What good is it when his arrogance threatens us all?” the Third added. "Even now, he conspires against us. It is only a matter of time before he acts. We should exorcise this tumour before it infects all we have built."
"And, what of our God's wishes? Every day that barrier stands is an affront to his magnificence! They are currently weak! We should pool our armies and strike again before they have the time to receive reinforcements."
“Attacking while a wolf is in our midst is utter foolishness!” the Third said, his voice growing in intensity. "Our best course of action is to rid ourselves of him before he becomes a threat we cannot ignore!"
"How would you propose we do that?" the Second sneered. "Although he suffered criticism from the various chieftains for his early retreat, the soldiers hold him in high esteem. If he were to die in dubious circumstances, it wouldn't surprise me if a civil war were to erupt. We simply cannot afford it. I hope you remember what happened during the last regime change."
His expression twisted into something grotesque, chilling anyone unfortunate enough to look at him. However, his two counterparts showed no reaction as they were much alike. However, the First's expression hadn't changed since they began arguing. His eyelids remained closed as he silently pondered.
“All too well,” the Third replied, his expression growing darker. Each word was said with deep emphasis, almost as if they weighed heavily on him. "Still, there is no need to act directly. We only need to rid ourselves of the source of his power. He will become much easier to control once he only has himself to rely on. If all else fails, we can always replace him."
“The source of his power?” the Second asked, slightly confused. "We've remained hidden for so long that few are even aware of our existence. Now, all believe the Primarch rules the tribes. As the Primarch's son and commander of his armies, his authority falls only slightly behind. Are you suggesting we target our own puppet?"
“Of course not,” the Third scoffed. "The Primarch knows better than to refuse our will. Even when we asked for his daughter's death, he was all too ready to comply. If not for her brother's interference, she would have already joined with our God, becoming an agent of his will."
“Wait,” the Second interjected. "Do you mean to target the girl? She is a bird in a cage—a hostage kept within the frontier. What manners of aid could she possibly give her brother? Even if she can see the future, who could she rely on? None of those Avaads would take her seriously. It would be the same as admitting she was equal to the Heavenly Dao they revere so much. The most probable outcome would probably be they deemed her a heretic if only to not have its wrath cast upon them."
“You aren’t wrong,” the Third replied. “The odds of her relying on the Avaads are almost null, but that isn’t what concerns me. What matters is her existence herself. Her name alone may be enough to rally some of those discontent with the current rule. He would no doubt take advantage of it. Fortunately, I was already one step ahead.”
The man’s face twisted into a creepy smile. He raised one hand and snapped his fingers, creating a shock wave that resounded through the void. The very fabric of space shook, then ripped, allowing an individual dressed in black to step through.
The individual was tall and broad, yet his face was covered by a dark hood, obscuring his features. Unlike the outsiders who took pride in letting their bronze skin shine under the sun, every inch of the man’s skin was covered in fabric, only letting his grey eyes shine through the darkness.
“Who might that be?” the second old fossil asked as confusion filled his tone.
His eyes narrowed as he glanced at the new arrival, yet the bulk of his discontent was directed at his counterpart, who was smiling broadly. Meanwhile, the First showed almost no reaction. His eyes remained closed and expressionless.
“Allow me to introduce The Blood of the Great One!” the Third exclaimed, obviously proud of himself. Still, something in the name struck a cord in the first.
“The Great One?” he questioned. “Is that referring to that little worm?”
“Precisely!” the Third replied, slightly smug as he turned to face the man who had just arrived before shouting, "Unveil yourself!”
The robbed man nodded before pulling back the hood covering his face. Hidden within the darkness were features so hideous that even the second decrepit old fossil’s eyes narrowed at the sight. Still, he sustained the man’s gaze as he observed closely.
The hooded man’s skin was dark—much too dark to belong to one of the tribes. In fact, it reminded him of the Great One roaming around in the desert’s deepest part—past the point of no return.
The skin seemed thicker than it should have but also highly elastic, making the man slightly bloated. However, the Second knew this was a consequence of its newfound durability. He even tested it by extending a single finger and pressing onto space itself.
A pressure wave sprang from the man's finger, creating a sharp edge as many dimensions distorted and rubbed against each other. Meanwhile, the hooded man showed no indication of dodging. He merely remained in place as the deadly edge barrelled in his direction.
A mere instant later, when its sharpness was almost upon him, the edge veered off course, barely brushed against the man's cheek, leaving a deep gash in the skin, but surprisingly, no blood flowed from the wound, nor did the man seem to feel pain. Instead, he seemed more like a bloodless corpse waiting for orders.
“Interesting,” the Second muttered, yet his surprise was only beginning.
Soon after, he saw grey tendrils sprouting from the thick hide, attaching both sides of the wound together, even ignoring the sharp space remaining attached to the wound. Although it slowed the regeneration process, it healed nonetheless. After but a mere moment, the wound was good as new, nowhere to be seen, as if he hadn't been injured to begin with.
“Impressive,” the Second said, raising a single hairless eyebrow as he turned to face the third. “Where did you find him?”
“I made him,” the Third replied with a slightly creepy smile. "Him and many others."
The Second couldn't help but frown, his gaze burning a hole in his counterpart. The surrounding space began to buzz and crack, almost like it was about to shatter. The stones—of which the altar was made—were about to break, some even rising up to float mid-air from the power of the corpse's presence alone. And yet, the Third merely looked on, uninterested.
“Have you reneged on your vows?” the Second asked, his tone extremely grave. "Experimenting on the tribes behind our backs is unacceptable! Our agreement clearly states that a majority consensus is needed for something of this scale!"
“Who says a consensus wasn’t reached?” the Third shrugged, looking toward the second like a fool.
“Don’t you lie to me!” the Second snapped back, clearly irate, as if a volcano about to burst. "Unlike the Avaads on the other side of the Great Barrier, who mingle with all manners of beasts and demons, our people are the people of the one true God! They are meant to remain pure! If I'd known about this, I would have never allowed it!"
“Exactly!” the third interjected, cutting off the first’s rant, yet he didn’t elaborate, letting this single word echo into the void.
The Second was at his breaking point, his anger almost flooding his mind. His fist was clenched, digging into what was left of his dried-up skin. However, before he let his fury explode, he turned toward the First, hoping to find validation, yet all he saw was apathy. The first man's eyes remained firmly closed, almost as if he had no interest in children's bickering. That was then that a most absurd thought hit him.
“You...” escaped his mouth through gritted teeth. However, before he could extrapolate, the First opened his eyes for the first time, letting his peaceful gaze lay on the Second, only for the Second’s anger to quickly be stifled. All that remained was a barely muffled self-denigrating laughter. "I should have expected this..."
“Now you finally get it,” the Third said with the smile of victory.
“Since when?” the Second asked with a sigh. “How long have you two been planning this?”
“From the start, old friend,” the First said calmly. “As you have said, you would have opposed our decision. However, the will of the council is absolute. I made the choice to hide it from you, if only for your own sake.”
His words were as calm as a peaceful lake, yet the Second could fully sense the power laced within. He knew that this man wouldn’t hesitate to enforce the contract between them three if one was to ever break one of its clauses. He could even feel the threat in the First’s eyes at this very moment, prompting him to back down.
He had lost this round.
As he saw the Second's fists relax and the conflict between them come to a close, the First's eyes closed once again, leaving only the two others to stare at each other. Unlike the Second's eyes, which were filled with bitterness, the Third merely looked on with glee before turning back to face the creature at the foot of the altar, who awaited patiently.
“Now, report! How goes the operation?” the Third asked in anticipation.
"Reporting to the High Priests!" the robbed man exclaimed, head slightly lowered. "My troops report that almost all the tribes once associated with the Seer have been exterminated. As ordered, we left a few clues pointing to the Avaads as perpetrators should any other tribes ever stumble upon the remains."
“Is that what you are planning?” the Second asked, frowning deeply. “Lowering his supporters by culling the tribes associated with his sister? You would even slaughter our own people. Haven’t there been enough deaths already?”
"They are not our own people!" the Third snapped back. "They are nothing more than parasites leeching off our God's mercy. They are not true believers and, so, shall not be spared. The only mercy I am willing to show them is to die fighting the Avaads in service of our God."
The Second looked at the Third, yet all he could see was a fanaticism he had never seen in the man. While they were both fervent believers of their God, he had never believed the man would ever treat the various tribes with such callousness.
Everything was supposed to be for the people of the desert to escape their cage at the realm's edge and thrive in the wider world. He couldn't help but think something had changed.
He turned to face the First, yet the man who was the eldest showed no signs of change. His passivity was his implicit acknowledgement. All the Second could do was relent as the contract between them three was still paramount.
“What about the rest?” the Third asked as he turned back to the man dressed in black. “Any news of the Exiled tribe?”
"We are tracking them down and should reach them in the coming days," the man said solemnly. "However, there is something else more to report. Two of the Fangs of the Great One have been destroyed.”
"What?" the Third exclaimed, frowning for the first time. "Who in this land could possibly destroy them? Is it him? Has he made his move?"
"Negative," the man replied. "He has yet to move against us. He is still within the Main Tribe, gathering his forces. We've investigated the man responsible for this, yet nothing is known. Our best guess is that he belongs to the Exiles. The two who perished were following them."
“Find him, and kill him!” the Third ordered. “Nobody breaks my toys and walks away with it. Get on with it!”
"As you wish, my lord!" the man bowed before disappearing into the void, leaving the three decrepit old men to bask in an uneasy silence.
