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Undying Empire: B1 — 45. Hope For Unity
🕑 Added 2020-07-25 05:25:35 +0000 UTCPoV Swap: Chief Loci (Chief of the Flex Clan, and one of their two Xaria) and Iris (sorry if you wanted more Ri'bot, but it did provide an interesting POV with what Iris was concerned about).
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Chief Loci’s gray tongue slid across her lips as she surveyed the damages left by the great storm that the ancestors had called down upon the whole valley before sliding it back into her mouth to swallow.
The world darkened as she was forced to blink from the action, and she kept her eyelids closed, listening to her clan with a furrowed brow. Bending down to press her knuckles against the moist soil, she breathed, long and deep, feeling the humid air fill her lungs before exhaling. Noise filled the jungle, voices, insects, and the wind’s passing filling her senses.
Tradesmen were hard at work, gathering what supplies could be salvaged or that had been pushed down the streams that were still active after the flash flooding. Wet-Bloods received orders from their unit leaders, directing relief efforts, scouting, and setting up a defensible camp with what clansmen were able.
Now that the Ancestors’ Wrath, rain, and the wind had died down, insects had begun to gather, causing the Gatherers to leap into action. This was the perfect time to get possible food; everything was coming out to explore what the event had left.
Loci opened her blue eyes as the former chief, her great uncle Gurali, bent down to her level, and she rolled her eyes as his tones shifted up and down. “What do ya tink of dis? Aye, Chief?”
“Can you not start with the old tongue, Elder Chief,” Loci sighed, giving her uncle an annoyed look. “I get it; it’s nostalgic, but the Lethix can hardly understand that guttural language, and we’re trying to forge a military that can communicate with one another.”
Gurali clicked his tongue. “They should be adopting our historical tongue instead of this … common Delthax drivel that everyone seems to enjoy.”
Loci snorted, turning to watch the repairs being done to the tree shelters that had been damaged; many of their stores had been forced to be dropped to protect the clansmen, but those that had tried to save their supplies had their homes overstressed by the weight of the winds, bodies, and supplies, snapping the foundations. “Not even your generation loved that harsh old tongue; it’s too heavy on the throat.”
“Dat tis means dey just weakin’,” Gurali replied with a dismissive wave.
Her mouth tilted, single right tooth creasing her skin as she gave him a lifted eye.
“Fine,” he muttered, releasing a loud huff. “If your father could see you now…”
Loci smacked the old Chief’s shoulder with a smirk while turning away. “He’d pat me on the back and tell me to kick your arse.”
“Mmh,” Gurali scratched the top of his slick head, wet from the nearby pool leading out of the jungle and into The Wandering River. “He would say that, wouldn’t he? Then I’d have to teach you what it means…”
“Forty-three,” Loci interrupted with an amused chuckle.
“No, it’s…”
Loci repeated with a giggle at the blustering Ri’bot as he hobbled after her. “Forty-three.”
“Wha … your father never interrupted…”
“I’m just singing the facts, dear Uncle,” Loci mused while moving through the large ferns to get to the pile of Holy Stones the warriors had gathered. “Last time, all I had to do was stick out my leg, and you hopped right over it to plant that big face of yours into the mud! So, I wouldn’t be braggin’ about any more fights, and I heard about you challenging our young Wet-Blood Toti two days ago.”
“The young ones need to learn what it’s like to be humble,” Gurali muttered. “They’re too green around the necks.”
“Oh,” Loci grinned, leaning to the side to slap him on the chest; a few clansmen bowed slightly as they quickly hurried by to help carry up replacement logs to assist in the repairs. “From what I hear, he actually got a hit on you, eh? You’re gettin’ old, Uncle.”
“Tch,” Gurali rubbed the spot she’d struck, knowing he felt it in his old age. “My leg cramped; this old body is a bother. Your great grandfather slapped that old Delthax Torlim in da jaw, droppin’ em in da watta!” He spat, slipping back into his old tongue.
Loci turned an inquisitive eye toward the former Chief. “Eh, why are we talking about my great grandfather? Ah, you’re just changing the subject,” she stated, kneeling to take a handful of the remaining white spheres. “What is this about?” She muttered, tone becoming serious.
Gurali’s hips shifted left and right, bones popping as he scanned the cleared area before crouching down beside her. “No clue; I haven’t seen this happen in my lifetime.”
“Not once?” Loci whispered.
“I told you before; no, not once, but my grandfather witnessed this type of storm once.”
Her tongue slid across her lips, grazing her tooth before releasing a low grumble in her throat. “Just before the Great Northern Purge.”
“Aye,” Gurali leaned in, eyeing two warriors jumping between trees above. “It’s worth noting that he was a bit of a storyteller.”
“So, he’s prone to exaggerate a bit.”
“Aye, and even in his story, there was nothing so grand as this. Winds that could rip trees into the river, the Ancestors’ Wrath, raining down between gusts of biting rain as the Supreme Chief hurls burning light across the heavens. There’s something big coming … or perhaps…”
“What?” Loci asked, mood sinking with the sudden shift in conversation.
Gurali slowly breathed out a long puff of air, nose twitching as he growled, “There was a story your great grandfather told … his old Uncle, the Chief at the time, slapped him a good one for it, but…”
“What are you saying, Uncle? You didn’t bring this up earlier.”
Loci’s eyes narrowed as he paused, letting a few Tradesmen walk by, smiling at them as they bowed respectfully. He waited for them to pass before continuing.
“Look, Chief, I cannot vouch for the story itself, and I was but a small boy; I might not have the details altogether … I’m old, after all.”
“Spit out your tongue already, Uncle!” Loci hissed, jabbing him in the arm.
“Gah, fine, fine!” He clicked his tongue a few times. “You be your father’s girl, alright,” he muttered before glaring down at the dirt. “He spoke about the flashing lights in the heavens, and he say…”
“Yes?”
“Aye, this is difficult to talk about … this is the heavens! Bless the Ancestors’ graves,” he mumbled, taking a deep breath. “I don’t know if this is heresy or not; we haven’t had a Speaker among us for some time, and I’m old.”
“You said that already!”
“Yes, yes … look,” his eyes shifted around, making sure no one was within hearing distance. “Your great grandfather spoke about a Speaker, telling him that there are times when the heavens aren’t so peaceful…”
“War, in the Great Jungle in the Heavens?” Loci asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “I always thought the great lights were a sign to us…”
“Some, yes,” her uncle pressed. “Those flashing lights that strike the jungle are signs to us for sure, but … the lights in the heavens that do not strike us…”
“What are they for?” Loci finished with a dark hum.
“As I said, I don’t know!” Gurali grunted. “I just know that something like dis … The Supreme Chiefs be more than a little angry about something, and we need to find out why.”
“You mean, I need to find out why.” Loci hissed through her gums, working around her jaw. “This timing … you don’t think it has something to do with…”
They both ceased their conversation as a scout jumped down from above; Brola saluting them.
“Chief, Elder Chief!”
“What is it?” Loci muttered, trying not to sound annoyed; it had been difficult enough to find this much time alone with her uncle to discuss these matters.
“News from the northern border!”
The North? No, is the Delthax taking this opportunity to attack? If Chief Utren discovered Delthax Warriors’ corpses being washed away by the stream, and from upriver...
“What is it?” Gurali demanded. “Speak-up, boy!”
“Right!” His voice quivered; Brola was new to the scouting party, only eight years old, and she’d heard the others in his party used him as the butt of most jokes. “Still not a single movement coming from the Wixum side, and Lethix’s borders are completely unguarded. The Unit Leaders sent in a few scouts to probe further, but there’s no longer any sign of Ri’bot parties anywhere.”
Loci scratched her left side, brow furrowing as she turned to her uncle. “We had contact with the Lethix border patrol not three hours ago, and now they’ve completely retreated without a word? How long should we wait; it’s not right.”
“Hmm, the Delthax corpses…” Gurali folded his arms across his once muscular chest, now a shadow of its former glory. “They mentioned casualties from the storm, but even First Rights would only pull back all non-essential Warriors. This does sound jumpy; if it were an attack, they’d send word to us.”
“They already warned us to stay alert after the blood and guts of an unknown number of Delthax bodies washed up in their land; something happened last night in the Wixum territory. Why would there be Delthax warriors at Wixum’s eastern borders?”
“Intelligence of a Clanless raid?” Gurali offered.
Loci clasped her hands behind her back, staring at the pile of Holy Stones beside them; it had been slowly shrinking throughout the day, giving the impression that the heavens were calming. “No, it would have to be a combined group of Clanless to pose a threat Wixum couldn’t handle themselves. The Quel Runoff losing its strength more and more each year makes more sense.”
Brola kept silent, not even willing to request to give his opinion on the matter, and after a moment’s thought, Loci made up her mind; Brola’s attention snapped to her as she turned to address him. “Send word to Xaria Iona, she’s to move forward, grasp the situation, and report back; if she can manage it, be as the smoke.”
“Yes, Chief!” Brola stated, beating his right fist against his chest before racing into the trees.
A low growl rumbled in Gurali’s throat.
“What is it?”
His tongue shot out, pressing against his right two teeth. “This is coming at a bad time. We lost a lot of food in the storm, and the extra labor is not helping bellies. We need that lake!”
Loci sighed, patting her uncle on the back. “Chiefs have been having that conversation for generations, Uncle.”
He set his light-blue eyes on her. “You will be the Chief to realize that dream!”
“If the Ancestors’ will it … yes, yes,” she chuckled, “the Ancestors’ reward Ri’bot of action. We must move with the faith that the heavens are with us.”
She took one last look at the diminishing Holy Stones before motioning the former Chief to follow her back to the main body of their village.
Luckily, the ancient Chiefs of the Flex Clan had the forethought to build their settlements high above the shoreline, which had saved many lives, and more food than otherwise might have survived.
Lethix reported a much worse case for their own people; with their lost weapons and supplies, it would be challenging for them to be of significant use in the upcoming conflict.
Loci kept her hands held behind her back as she watched a few of the younger children that had just learned to walk wobble up to her uncle, urging him to join them in a racing game; it was common knowledge that the former Chief loved any kind of play, and after some coaxing, she managed to get him to detach himself from her side to unwind with the kids.
She finally enjoyed a moment of peace, flexing her webbed toes in the newly formed stream that the storm had created; it was actually a blessing, having three new running water sources that merged into one before flowing into The Wandering River.
The cry of birds filled the clearing, sending joyful music through the air for her clansmen to work to, and the breeze helped cool the few burning rays of sunlight that passed through the thick overhead canopy.
If we truly start getting desperate, then we’ll need to start hunting the birds. She grimaced at the thought, knowing how terrible the fowl was on Ri’bot stomachs. We deserve a seat at the table with the Wixum trade agreement; this feud lasted generations before the Fire Wars, still holding us back.
She glanced around at the massive tree roots, used for centuries to practice throwing and tongue shots, the wide trunks that carried generations of her clan, and the recent additions that were now lost. Her face sagged while looking at the destroyed forges; they still had their equipment, but the means to craft them had been carried away with the storm.
Lethix managed to keep most of their supplies, but lost weapons and people. We saved most of our people but lost our means to create metal tools and a lot of food. I suppose we’ll need to rely on each other more than ever.
Her brow creased as her sharp senses found a swift-moving target; Iona, the only other Xaria besides herself in the clan, was racing toward her. The light-brown skinned Ri’bot was the only person she knew that could catch her off-guard, but she’d forgone her normal playful mannerisms, jumping between trunks to escape traffic.
As a former Xaria himself, Gurali had noticed Iona’s actions as well, but it took a moment to break away from the children to join them.
Iona jumped down beside her, chest heaving as she dropped to a trembling knee, trying to catch her breath.
Loci gripped her shoulders; her skin was slick with sweat, hot to the touch after rushing back to the camp to deliver her news. “What is it?”
It took a moment for her to speak, throat clearly sticky with saliva as she croaked. “Supreme…”
“Supreme what?”
“A—A Supreme Chief—multiple Supreme Chiefs are—are coming,” she swallowed and gasped between words.
“Just catch your breath,” Loci soothed, rubbing her shaking shoulders, and after a moment, it became apparent that her friend and fellow Xaria was more than just exhausted from her flight; she was terrified. “What’s coming?”
Taking two controlled breathes, Iona spoke as if she couldn’t believe what was coming out of her own mouth. “Chief Utren and Xaria Welix … they’re escorting four Supreme Chiefs to—to our—here. They’re escorting them here.”
Loci glanced right at her uncle as he ran up to join them, catching her words. “Four Supreme Chiefs? You can’t mean…”
“Yes,” Iona breathed; the two teeth on either side of her mouth seemed to have punctured her lip with the pressure she’d used. She hugged herself, blue eyes wide as she trembled. “I could feel it—the weight of their words and the power they held; one with orange eyes spoke with such power … it was like the flashing light in the heavens, but—but only I could hear it.”
“You’re not making any sense,” Loci growled, guiding her down to the floor as her legs collapsed. What happened to her? It looks like shock, but … Iona’s a Xaria; what could have possibly shaken her this badly? Four Supreme Chiefs? It’s nonsense…
Several children, clansmen, and warriors ran over to see what was happening, but Gurali quickly stood, squaring his shoulders. “This is a private matter. Leadership only; clear the area!”
The Warriors snapped to action, ushering away the onlookers as they herded them away.
“What does she mean, Supreme Chiefs are on their way?” Loci asked aloud, trying to make sense of the woman’s words.
Gurali knelt beside the Xaria, fingers wiping away some of the green blood flowing down her chin. “Iona, start from the beginning; what happened.”
Her quakes were easing as she breathed, and her cool demeanor started to return. “I received your orders, and went to see what was happen—happening in the Lethix Clan’s territory. I barely made it into their land before sensing something cold in the atmosphere—the temperature was dropping too rapidly, and I went to investigate.”
Iona paused, eyes seeming to fade out. “I didn’t see her.”
“Who didn’t you see?”
She paused, looking up at Loci with dread. “The Etherial Clan.”
A shiver cascaded down Loci’s spine, and by the look of her uncle, he had the same reaction. The Etherial Clan … the corpses of the Delthax. If they slaughtered the Delthax and Wixum last night, and then moved to … everyone behind Iona is dead. If she barely made it back to report this … should we run to the river? What option do we have?
Gurali recovered before her. “How many? You said four Supreme Chiefs, and that the Lethix are guiding them here.”
“Wait,” Loci swallowed, forcing her to blink. “The Etherial Clan is being led here by the Lethix; they betrayed us?”
Iona closed her eyes, swallowing a hard lump in her throat. “No—I thought it was the Etherial Clan; she looked—she’s too perfect, beyond any Ri’bot. No, she’s not from the Etherial Clan; she’s every Ri’bot—a Supreme Chief. I couldn’t sense her, not a trace, and I was caught … mind, body, spirit … everything.”
Loci and Gurali didn’t know what else to say; Iona kept rambling on, but eventually, Loci thought she wrapped her head around the message she was trying to deliver.
“Iona—are you saying, the storm yesterday was the Supreme Chiefs coming down from the heavens, and they’re now—in our land—coming to see us?”
“Yes!” Iona cried. “I saw them—I did! There’s here, and—and they’re not happy!”
“Not—happy…” Loci repeated, falling to her butt as her stomach squirmed; a splat sounded as she struck the mud, fingers digging into the wet ground.
If great storms with lightning is a war in the heavens, and Supreme Chiefs have descended from above … what’s happening? What am I supposed to do? They’re not happy. Did they destroy the Delthax and Wixum clans in their wrath? How do … it’s impossible—you can’t fight the heavens.
“What—do I do?” Loci muttered, tingles shooting down her arms as her body became numb. “Iona—what do I do?”
“Prepare—she comes to offer something,” Iona mumbled.
“Offer what?” Gurali asked, and suddenly Loci was aware of his age as he hunched over, clutching his chest. “Do we need to offer something to them?”
Iona’s arms tightened around her chest. “I—I don’t know. We just need to prepare—she’ll be here soon.”
“Okay,” Loci rubbed her muddy hands, suddenly feeling unclean. “Send word, Gurali—prepare the clan to receive Supreme Chiefs.”
“How?” He mumbled.
“I—pray—just pray, and gather.”
Gurali shuffled off, still trying to come to terms with the news, but if Iona, a Xaria, said it, how could they doubt the information?
* * *
Slow, silent streams of air pushed through Iris’ plates as her eight legs carefully found their targeted path through the loud jungle. The wildlife was cowed as their party followed the two Lethix leaders, but every whir and click of an insect caught her notice, and she filed the information away, meticulously tracking every motion.
The world had opened up to her since connecting with the Empress’ Nexus; she’d studied the other cultures surrounding her lands, and there was no purpose in killing the tiny creatures that would provide little to no nourishment for her brood, which was just a part of nature.
Even before her new skills began to take shape in her mind, she was hypersensitive to the atmospheric environment, which put her at a great advantage compared to the other Queens and her siblings. By luck of selection, even her daughters had inherited a portion of that gift in their genetics, although Camellia lacked certain feats that would have aided her in carrying on the brood, but she had her own use in the collective.
It was these sharp senses of hers that caused the Quen’Talrat to snatch her focus; their massive size was a bonus that would feed her brood if nothing else, but it was their intelligence that had drawn her in, and by merely observing them over the centuries, she’d started to adapt to a new lifestyle.
Thélméthra were dominant in just about every environment they were placed because of their ease in molding their nature, finding the right ingredients, whether it be metal, flesh, or any other compound, using the Queen’s unique restructuring glands to produce offspring that would thrive.
Her mother had taught her that very few creatures could rival, and fewer still that could exceed their predatory process. However, it was necessary to note they were out there, and the Quen’Talrat were one of those species that were designed in a manner to combat them, even if it were a rare occurrence.
Iris had expanded upon her mother’s vast tunnel networks under the land northward, pushing south while her aunts and sisters would move to other locations. Thélméthra did not require a significant amount of resources, and could quickly adapt to plants, smaller prey, or even stone if needed.
One of the interesting things Violet had done when still young was find an appetite for the glowing stones the Quen’Talrat had brought back from the north, harnessing the different energies within. They appeared to give her thread different attributes, but before she’d been able to investigate further, their entire family had sustained a glorious defeat because of her children’s folly.
The event that had led to her demise was a calculated one, which had actually impressed her. Ke’Thra’Ma had been a magnificent beast, to say the least, and she valued that. However, she would rather not have to serve the Empress with the creature, given their history. It was less for her own feelings and more for the obsessive nature of the Quen’Talrat.
She noted the amusedly weak Elite Hunter that the Empress rode upon. The beast was among the weakest of Ke’Thra’Ma’s warriors, having fallen in combat soon after pushing their borders south. She’d kept meticulous mental records of the incidents surrounding that massive white ape and his forces, and this one was of no special recount.
The Empress, however, was something new entirely. Her deep, gem-like red eyes took in almost every detail of her visible space, millions upon millions of microscopic hairs along her metallic skin feeding back an enormous amount of information that was passively processed by her complex nervous system.
The vibrations in the ground and air, chemicals carried along the wind, magnetic variances in the atmosphere—her environment was dancing to the rhythm of action and reaction, painting a beautiful image in her mind that told her exactly what to do, but the one thing that stood out in all of that was Elinor.
She could tell the moment the Empress of the Dead called upon her; there was something divine pulsing within her, reaching out, enveloping, molding, incorporating. It was the first time she’d felt like there was something worth serving; she was the Queen, capable of being the line of a Supreme Queen, and in all her life, there had not been a single creature that she was not superior to, including Ke’Thra’Ma, but that had changed the moment Elinor stood before her.
Her focus moved to the Empress as she spoke.
“Iris, how much longer are you able to transform?”
Twenty minutes and thirty-two seconds, Empress.
“The twenty-four-hour cooldown starts the moment you transform, meaning you can use those six hours of transformation within that time unrestricted?”
Correct. I’ve already determined using my abilities on cooldown is the best practice.
“Hmm,” Elinor ghostly green eyes lowered to the floor, racing beneath her as they moved through the jungle. “I suspect that show we put on for that Ri’bot woman will provide the effect I’m seeking from the Flex Clan.”
Tiffany’s emphatic voice entered the conversation. “Oh, most certainly! I believe we will be met with quite the welcome party.” She chuckled.
I will be ready for any actions needed.
“Mmh,” Edmon’s deep tone concurred. “We shouldn’t let our guard down; I’m sure they’ll desire some form of proof as the Lethix did.”
A small smile turned Elinor’s lips. “Yes, I suspect as much, which is why I’ve thought about something.”
“Oh?” Tiffany questioned, keeping herself grounded upon a Thélméthra drone’s back.
“It will be my little surprise,” Elinor finished. “I thought of it when observing a few of the things the Lethix were whispering.”
Tiffany’s tongue slid across her lips. “You have me curious, Dear! I can’t wait to see what you have planned.”
Iris’ mind fixed on the Empress’ declaration; she sent a communications request of Edmon through the Nexus.
“Yes, Iris?” Edmon asked, glancing down at her as his Quen’Talrat mount leaped from tree to tree above the Empress.
This is still new for me … much of this is unexpected. The Empress is creating a sort of brood of her own, but outside of that, a separate entity entirely that’s centered on this word you call religion. There’s power in it, which Tiffany has explained, but I still have trouble with grasping the implications. Why?
He chuckled. “The reason you're having a difficult time with the concept is that you have not experienced the word itself, but…” He paused. “From what you explained to me about your culture, would you like me to see if I can break it down.”
That would be appreciated.
“Right,” he muttered, effortlessly balancing on the bony ape’s shoulders as he put his hand against his armored hip. “Have you seen all of the past Queens that spread across worlds, conquering until only the Thélméthra are left, leaving a Supreme Queen to be chosen to move on to the next world?”
No.
“So, how do you know that is the case?”
Because my mother told me of our past.
“Correct, and I will say that your mother’s recount seems more than just a story. From what I can tell, that is just how your species is, and you are extremely attentive to detail. However, many creatures are not so long-lived or as prudent to detail, and thus, we get into a bit of a gray area that we call belief, and there are many levels to it.”
The ideas began to link in Iris’ mind; she could sense Ri’bot up ahead with several hiding in the bushes fifty meters ahead, but her instincts told her they had no intent to do harm.
Belief in an idea that might not be true … if a creature has trail markings that overlap multiple days along a path, then it’s fair to assume—believe, that they will return. So, acting upon that belief, I create a trap. Correct?
“Mmh, that’s a bit more of a concrete example of belief with evidence. Religion centers around a belief that is rather difficult to explain or grasp; it’s more immaterial than the example you gave. For instance, why do you think the world exists or where you might go after you die?”
I have not considered any reason or destination.
“No, because you’re extremely practical. That isn’t useful information for you because you haven’t experienced it, which is fine, and you can function without such questions flooding your mind, but other creatures cannot. The Ri’bot must have a belief about where they go, and that also presents the opportunity for an innocent belief to be molded to someone’s will.”
I see. It is still strange to consider such topics when it is simply something you would need to adapt to once arriving. Certain information cannot be gleaned through anything but experience, and if you have nothing to base it on, then it is best to focus on what can be accomplished at the moment.
“As I said, you’re very practical; unlike humans, it never even crossed your mind,” he chuckled. “You plan for what you can, and make decisions based on the goals you have, which are for your brood, not what might come after you die. You’re concerned about future generations, not yourself, which is actually fairly uncommon to humans, I’d say.”
Iris was silent for a moment, feeling a shift in the atmosphere; it would rain tonight. I understand the belief portion, to an extent, but how is that translated into actual power for the Empress?
“Ah, okay,” Edmon mumbled. “The seed that we discussed before encapsulates the Empress’ Nexus; the whole network that gives us these abilities, and seeds can evolve or splinter. What we’re doing is developing a new religious branch to that system.”
They are not connected in the same way we are, though.
“No, they would need Tiffany to bridge that gap by infusing a portion of her connection to the Empress into another person, giving them a sort of generational extension to the Empress’ infusing power. The condition of tapping into that power is following the Empress’ desires and orders, which makes an entire new form of religious army within the Empire that not only requires no Death Energy to maintain, like we must have, but actually fuels the Empress.”
Iris picked apart the statement before humming softly. You’re saying that this religious army will balance the Undead army?
“That’s the brilliance in what Tiffany pieced together, as much as I hate to admit it,” he whispered. “There is a unity in the two that will help carry the Empire to massive heights and allow the Empress to continue to store huge amounts of Death Energy. It’s a phenomenal use of the framework we’ve been given.”
In essence, the seed provides the ability to convert belief into a link between intelligent creatures that follow her, but it’s only a faith bond that allows The System to transfer the experience and energy they gather to the Empress, based on the strength of that vow. There is no danger of them using that against us because, in the very act of disobedience, their link providing the access to that power is severed.
“Correct. Even if they think they’re doing the Empress’ orders, the bond is connected to her will, which means they both must be one for the believer to receive the power from Tiffany’s ritual.”
Effective. I appreciate the explanation.
“Very … ah, seems we’re coming upon the village.”
Iris kept her senses sharp; the Ri’bot were secreting liquid from their skin upon seeing them, showing their fear. Even in her original form, the scent was sweet, and she could taste the sensation permeating the air. Still, her Ri’bot body enjoyed the feeling much more than her Thélméthra.
They slowed down, following the weary Lethix Chief through the crowd that parted, leading them to three Ri’bot among the hundreds sticking in the trees and ground. She sent the Zombies high above the treetops further back, having them hide well out of visual sight, but ready to rain down upon the throng that had their full attention on them.
“Chief Loci,” Utren puffed, clearly unaccustomed to a continuous pace; his brother, however, didn’t seem winded in the least.
Iris would have smirked if she were in her Ri’bot form as she observed the small, fleshy creatures. The strongest of the bunch was no doubt in front of her; it was the same Ri’bot she’d paralyzed from behind earlier, trembling with fright as she stared at her.
The female Ri’bot cleared her throat. “Chief Utren, I—umm,” her deep blue eyes swept each of them with uncertainty. “I was told that you were leading—Supreme Chiefs.” She finished.
“That’s correct,” Welix stated, turning to gesture. “Before you is the Supreme Empress of the Pits; she is the counterpart to The One Above All; to see one is to see the other.”
“The Holy Stones,” she pressed. “The storm?”
The Ri’bot froze as Quin extended his hand, lifting Elinor higher to speak. “You may call me by Empress. I am the Goddess of the Dead, and all those that pass through the Great River in the Sky must go through me. You’re all thinking, why am I here?”
She smiled. “The answer is simple; I am here to offer you a chance to be united again, as you were in the very distant past. No more hunger, no more struggles, but a glorious life that your Supreme Chief will provide.”
The elderly Ri’bot beside the Chief cleared his throat. “Forgive me—Empress,” he hesitated with the address, “but is there any proof that you are not just a usurper of the Throne? Was there a war in the heavens? Where is this Ri’bot Goddess that Iona spoke of; I—I see no Ri’bot with you. How can we be sure?”
Elinor's eyebrows lifted with amusement as she studied the Ri’bot. “Well, that’s something new!” She chuckled between the Court.
Should I kill him? Iris asked, lowering herself slightly to stare at the fidgeting Ri’bot.
“No,” Elinor’s smile didn’t falter. “What is your name?”
“Elder Chief Gurali,” he replied, and with more courage than Iris would have expected from living waste.
“Elder Chief, then,” Elinor gestured. “You wish to see what a Supreme Chief Ri’bot looks like? Supreme Chief Iris,” she prompted.
Iris activated her skill, shadow surrounding her body as the world expanded around her, and the slim, flexible figure of her new form came into shape. Gasps swept the clan as Iris’ glowing yellow eyes came into focus, directing an amused smile at the Elder Chief.
Her long black tongue snaked out to slide across her three left teeth before popping back into her mouth. The playful mannerisms that filled her were nothing like her human or Thélméthra transformation; she wanted to be active when a Ri’bot, which she knew was a product of careful gene selection.
“Would anyone wish to test me?” She asked in a light tone.
Everyone’s focus darted to a thin Ri’bot woman beside the Chief as she stumbled back, falling into the mud. “No, no, no one wants that…” She pleaded.
“Hmm,” Iris’ lips pushed to the side. A concentrated burst of Predatory Aura must have been too much for her; I’ll have to remember that in the future. “A shame,” she sighed before transforming back into her original state. “I would have loved to play a little game with the mortals,” she added, taking the phrase from Edmon’s jibes in the previous village.
Elinor spoke soon after her change. “All I want is for you to be united under the heavens, as you once were, before the past Chiefs sought to lead you astray.”
“W-What must we do?” Loci asked, sweating after seeing her metamorphosis.
Tiffany held up some kind of root with symbols written across it; biting the tip, it turned to mist, and she inhaled. Her voice became like thunder, resonating through the jungle with a boom. “Kneel.”
Iris couldn’t help but feel slightly impressed by the Witch’s cadence as every Ri’bot stiffened before shakily getting to their knees.
“Wonderful,” Tiffany chirped, voice still several times louder than it should be. “Chief Utren and Xaria Welix will stay behind to guide you back to their village where you’ll receive instruction from High Priest Valdar. Everything will become clear soon enough, and you won’t have to worry about your little squabbles over lakes because you will no longer be separate people.”
She enthusiastically clapped her hands together. “Welcome to the Empire, my dears; there’s much work to be done!”
---------------
Comments
SME
TY, corrected those.
Denis Dube
+1 for "Effective. I appreciate the explanation.". Also really love the reaction to Iris offering a fight. "“It will be my little surprise,” Elinor finished", wait where's my surprise? Don't tell me I have to wait for next chapter? Suggestions: * "Loci repeated with a giggle as the blustering Ri’bot as he hobbled after her.", at the blustering? * "Loci’s scratched her left side", hand scratched? There's a missing word here... * "chest heaving as dropped to a trembling knee", missing she
Martynas Samsonas
Well that was actually a bit longer chapter than usual :D. Still loved it tho.
SME
I added the extra part with Iris.
Martynas Samsonas
The desire to read the chapter the moment it was released is so large... But just a bit longer I shall manage to save some good stuff for otherwise boring Monday!!!
SME
Mhm. People that make fun of religous people are dicks and people who can't question what they believe are sheep (that's true with everything, though =P)
Ensos2
Another way of looking at religion would be trying to find meaning and reason. As an example: People did not know what caused weather and then attributed that to some all mighty figure in the sky and just stuck to it instead of finding an alternative answer. Add to that the fact that people's pride gets hurt when you call them out and the emotional response and you have not just a lack of skepticism but also an unwillingness to admit you're wrong. And the rest, as they say, is history.
Drinko
I'd prefer a Ri’bot perspective! Gurali maybe?
Sinax
Iris!
brunoid
^Agreed. I would like Iris, tho.
Ensos2
I'd like to know Iris's and Loci's perspective, maybe Iona? THERE ARE TOO MANY INTERESTING CHARACTERS!!!
