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the fire-wells.
"How did your chat with your kind go?" the King asked, a feral gleam appeared in his eyes as he turned to look at his guest
"What do you mean my King?" the Councilor visibly stiffened and paled.
"You really think I didn't know of your ancestry, Councilor?" The King’ smile never reached his eyes. "It's not that hard to dig it out. It's not that hard to check your loyalties. We both know what the first and only priority is for a Seekinglander… or should I say Anaerther?"
"My king, my only loyalty has always been to you," the Councilor's voice did not waiver, though sweat graced his furrowed brow, "It has always been yours," he added quietly.
"Liar, liar,” Red Axe sneered, “We both know you lie with the same ease that the Duchess does. Now, I'm sure you know you won't leave this room alive, but do hand me the reports you have brought with you."
The self-sacrificing part of Councilor's nature was already blessing him with an eerie sense of comfort and calm. Breathing deeply, he watched red-eyed King wield an invisible blade and aim at him.
Little did the King know of the little eyes watching his every move, of the young ears listening to every breath he took and every word he said. Lar didn't like to be left out but at that moment, she would have chosen an oblivion over the witnessing the monster clutching her da' body. It could not be her father, who dealt that final blow to the Councilor, this funny looking man who used to tell her stories of the times-past. A predator consumed its prey that was her father and she couldn’t breathe. Lar was of little size and age, but her mind recognized the signs of the blood Madness that were taking her father and his men hostage.
Tainted Dreams did nothing to tame the innocent core within her. It was only the weird sensation, she started to feel deeply within her chest that saved her sanity, life, and tears. Unexpected vibration, she had felt a few times already, seized her with great force, pushing her out of the hiding place within the vent-shafts. That familiar pull guided her through her private pathways. She had to follow its silent song to witness yet another kind of carnage, taking place just outside the Inner Block walls.
Lar wished time would go back to where it all started. She wished for her senses to fail and the nightmare to end. The pull of the Call weakened with the last Seekinglander body that hit the ground, but the blood Madness seemed to keep its hold over the guards, for they started to fight each other ruthlessly.
The Great War started right then, from the within of maddened Axe minds.
Two lone in their sanity figures quickly took the terrified and rooted to the ground child into safety. The last child of the Seekinglands to ever grace Axeland. Lar.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Was it not for Bertan's secretive and emotional confession earlier in her room, Genes would have crumbled into dust right then. In his hideout, he watched helplessly. Thankfully, a part of his mind wasn’t overwhelmed with emotion, and he managed to immerse himself in his Calling.
It didn’t even seem real to him, like a bad dream, the Unnamed couldn’t just hold down her shoulders and help the other monster to bury the Invisible Blade deep into the core of her chest. Genes kept watching in disbelief, detached from his own body, at the time the events were unfolding. He found himself to become a different man in an instant, of a cold heart, calculating mind, and unforgiving vengeance that gnawed at his core.
His descent into that huge vent well had turned into a painful descent into his sinking and screaming core. Having witnessed the willing sacrifice of someone, he started to think of as a family, the sacrifice to make him safe, had triggered an inescapable transformation into a mental and emotional full-blooded Anaerther male. Suddenly, Genes was not a boy anymore, his change was so strong and tangible he half-expected to see visible marks on his body.
Instead, two assassins had struck him hard the moment his feet touched the bottom of the well. The Artifact seemed to blend into his skin, leaving only a silvery sheen as a mark of its existence, but it still served him well and saved his life. He played his part of being overpowered and unconscious, so very sure that those assassins would take him to where Bertan was. He was right, and the Artifact provided his weak body with the strength and speed needed to kill his captors, once he realized where Bertan was. Where her body was.
Brutal truth tortured him every time he realized, had Bertan worn the Artifact on her own body, nothing could have defeated her. That knowledge fed his rage and self-loathing. Still, he thought, he held the secret knowledge to keep her alive. After all, being an Anaerther did not only mean to hear the Call, even though it was only a story their legends were made of. So he waited patiently and watched the carnage till the New King departed alongside his guards.
Broken bonds of trust dissatisfied his newfound conscience and the Unnamed seemed not to understand it yet. This weird place in his chest pulled him through the floor each time his eyes caught the sight of her wrecked and lifeless body. Being aware, that it had been all of his doing, should not wake a monster of sorrow within his Sword core just like that, he decided, stunned with his own feelings. He should have no feelings.
For him, for the Sword in him, the prosperity and unity of his Kingdom was worthy of all and any sacrifice. His pride and joy to serve New King overshadowed his pain only for a mere eye-blink, after which a great, dismal pit of unparalleled sorrow sucked him completely in to never let any spark of light in.
There it had been, he thought, in the eyes of the Old King. The knowledge that there was no redemption for a betrayal of one's heart needs, for the last word of the dying Titan, was the long forgotten name of his first daughter. Sylt.
The Unnamed didn't have to look around to feel the restrained fury boring right into his back. He did not need to use his sense of sight to know who had been watchfully lurking in the dark. That confrontation had been long in the making of the Fates.
What really made him uneasy was the reluctance to turn around and leave Bertan's body out of his sight. He felt extremely protective of her now for some reason, more than when that body had been full of life rushing through her veins.
That last gaze they had shared. That last time when she opened her dark eyes to look right into his soul while he let the Invisible Blade burrow into her chest. That last moment had shattered his inner peace beyond anything he had been through before. He couldn't name it, couldn't put his finger on it, to pinpoint the source of his change, couldn't even name this weird sensation that rushed through his body and mind, ever since their eyes met, just before he let her die.
The Unnamed didn’t understand why Bertan wasn’t surprised to see him then nor disappointed by his betrayal. Her acceptance of that last revelation ruined him, shaken him to his core, and he couldn’t find a way to fix it in any way other than joining her. Somehow, he knew, nothing would bring him more pleasure in his long life than to meet the darkness and join with the newfound center of his world. Soon.
"You can leave your hiding place, boy, and join me. I can easily feel your hate from here," the Unnamed said loud enough for Genes to hear. "Nobody will be coming back here anytime soon. You don't need to fear me now boy," he stayed frozen in his place and position, disliking the idea of leaving Her side.
"Genes, my name is Genes," the whisper did nothing to hide the soft and almost inaudible steps the boy took to meet his nemesis.
"I will not harm you. The only thing that binds us at the moment is the only order Bertan gave me as the head of our Line House," the Unnamed finally managed to turn around and see Genes appear.
"What was the order?" the curiosity seemed never to leave the boy, ignoring the existence of the times of dread.
"To guard you with my life. Especially if she doesn't come back," the Unnamed told the truth as if it was the most natural thing to say.
"It doesn't look like she is coming back, does it?" the unbearable pain reigning over Genes poured through his voice and spilled through his eyes. No longer was he raging. It was blazing like a fire that he started to grieve.
"She is on a journey all of us will take some day." Some sooner some later, was the unspoken part, the Unnamed chose keep to himself only. It brought the wisps of peace to his core that he almost inhaled greedily, unwilling to share this blissful and addictive emotion. In that one fateful eye-link with Her, he changed in so many ways that he was starting to forget who he had been before. Before he let her die. No. Before he made her die. Still, that part of truth brought only a frown to his face. He wasn’t ready for it, yet.
"Why did you let it to be done to her? Why to kill her if now you are so graciously following her orders?" Genes sneered, feeling the hate welling up inside him was almost visible, ready to explode just then.
"You are too young to understand that," the Unnamed sighed deeply with sorrow, something he couldn’t quite name yet.
"That is surely lame excuse for not accepting the truth that you betrayed the head of your own Line House!" Genes screamed loudly enough to wake winds with the strength of his voice, "Of our house now," he added almost silently.
"There is loyalty to the House, and there is a larger form of loyalty to something higher and bigger than just you, your friend, or your family house. We need a King, a leader. We are not supposed to dwell in a small bickering when all of the Swords are failing at something bigger." The Unnamed tried to explain his reasoning to a young boy who didn't seem to understand the world beyond his small tribe.
"At what?" Genes yelled again.
"Living," the Unnamed answered after the echo finished its song.
"Is it really that easy to kill? Just for that?" Genes whispered, standing still. Deep breaths he took were the only sign of his state of mind.
"To kill for the happiness of your own family and all the people? It's not only just that easy boy, but it's also the only reason, to give your own life for." He frowned, surprised how empty those words felt now, void of any meaning and emotion. "I only had no idea it would hurt so much, to see her look at me for the last time, to watch her life fade away," The Unnamed added more to himself as if he was already unaware of Genes' presence nearby. He knew that the young ones don’t see the world beyond their heads. It was so easy for him to explain what younglings were doing wrong.
"Then why did you do it? Why did you let him do it?" Genes yelled in a homicidal rage that ignited once again when he looked one more time at the crumpled body on the floor. A blinding fire of hate worked him up. He took aim at the Unnamed with a small invisible blade that was hidden within his robes.
Surprised with the fierce force coming from Genes, unaware of the artifact shielding him and unwilling to hurt his only link to
"How did your chat with your kind go?" the King asked, a feral gleam appeared in his eyes as he turned to look at his guest
"What do you mean my King?" the Councilor visibly stiffened and paled.
"You really think I didn't know of your ancestry, Councilor?" The King’ smile never reached his eyes. "It's not that hard to dig it out. It's not that hard to check your loyalties. We both know what the first and only priority is for a Seekinglander… or should I say Anaerther?"
"My king, my only loyalty has always been to you," the Councilor's voice did not waiver, though sweat graced his furrowed brow, "It has always been yours," he added quietly.
"Liar, liar,” Red Axe sneered, “We both know you lie with the same ease that the Duchess does. Now, I'm sure you know you won't leave this room alive, but do hand me the reports you have brought with you."
The self-sacrificing part of Councilor's nature was already blessing him with an eerie sense of comfort and calm. Breathing deeply, he watched red-eyed King wield an invisible blade and aim at him.
Little did the King know of the little eyes watching his every move, of the young ears listening to every breath he took and every word he said. Lar didn't like to be left out but at that moment, she would have chosen an oblivion over the witnessing the monster clutching her da' body. It could not be her father, who dealt that final blow to the Councilor, this funny looking man who used to tell her stories of the times-past. A predator consumed its prey that was her father and she couldn’t breathe. Lar was of little size and age, but her mind recognized the signs of the blood Madness that were taking her father and his men hostage.
Tainted Dreams did nothing to tame the innocent core within her. It was only the weird sensation, she started to feel deeply within her chest that saved her sanity, life, and tears. Unexpected vibration, she had felt a few times already, seized her with great force, pushing her out of the hiding place within the vent-shafts. That familiar pull guided her through her private pathways. She had to follow its silent song to witness yet another kind of carnage, taking place just outside the Inner Block walls.
Lar wished time would go back to where it all started. She wished for her senses to fail and the nightmare to end. The pull of the Call weakened with the last Seekinglander body that hit the ground, but the blood Madness seemed to keep its hold over the guards, for they started to fight each other ruthlessly.
The Great War started right then, from the within of maddened Axe minds.
Two lone in their sanity figures quickly took the terrified and rooted to the ground child into safety. The last child of the Seekinglands to ever grace Axeland. Lar.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Was it not for Bertan's secretive and emotional confession earlier in her room, Genes would have crumbled into dust right then. In his hideout, he watched helplessly. Thankfully, a part of his mind wasn’t overwhelmed with emotion, and he managed to immerse himself in his Calling.
It didn’t even seem real to him, like a bad dream, the Unnamed couldn’t just hold down her shoulders and help the other monster to bury the Invisible Blade deep into the core of her chest. Genes kept watching in disbelief, detached from his own body, at the time the events were unfolding. He found himself to become a different man in an instant, of a cold heart, calculating mind, and unforgiving vengeance that gnawed at his core.
His descent into that huge vent well had turned into a painful descent into his sinking and screaming core. Having witnessed the willing sacrifice of someone, he started to think of as a family, the sacrifice to make him safe, had triggered an inescapable transformation into a mental and emotional full-blooded Anaerther male. Suddenly, Genes was not a boy anymore, his change was so strong and tangible he half-expected to see visible marks on his body.
Instead, two assassins had struck him hard the moment his feet touched the bottom of the well. The Artifact seemed to blend into his skin, leaving only a silvery sheen as a mark of its existence, but it still served him well and saved his life. He played his part of being overpowered and unconscious, so very sure that those assassins would take him to where Bertan was. He was right, and the Artifact provided his weak body with the strength and speed needed to kill his captors, once he realized where Bertan was. Where her body was.
Brutal truth tortured him every time he realized, had Bertan worn the Artifact on her own body, nothing could have defeated her. That knowledge fed his rage and self-loathing. Still, he thought, he held the secret knowledge to keep her alive. After all, being an Anaerther did not only mean to hear the Call, even though it was only a story their legends were made of. So he waited patiently and watched the carnage till the New King departed alongside his guards.
Broken bonds of trust dissatisfied his newfound conscience and the Unnamed seemed not to understand it yet. This weird place in his chest pulled him through the floor each time his eyes caught the sight of her wrecked and lifeless body. Being aware, that it had been all of his doing, should not wake a monster of sorrow within his Sword core just like that, he decided, stunned with his own feelings. He should have no feelings.
For him, for the Sword in him, the prosperity and unity of his Kingdom was worthy of all and any sacrifice. His pride and joy to serve New King overshadowed his pain only for a mere eye-blink, after which a great, dismal pit of unparalleled sorrow sucked him completely in to never let any spark of light in.
There it had been, he thought, in the eyes of the Old King. The knowledge that there was no redemption for a betrayal of one's heart needs, for the last word of the dying Titan, was the long forgotten name of his first daughter. Sylt.
The Unnamed didn't have to look around to feel the restrained fury boring right into his back. He did not need to use his sense of sight to know who had been watchfully lurking in the dark. That confrontation had been long in the making of the Fates.
What really made him uneasy was the reluctance to turn around and leave Bertan's body out of his sight. He felt extremely protective of her now for some reason, more than when that body had been full of life rushing through her veins.
That last gaze they had shared. That last time when she opened her dark eyes to look right into his soul while he let the Invisible Blade burrow into her chest. That last moment had shattered his inner peace beyond anything he had been through before. He couldn't name it, couldn't put his finger on it, to pinpoint the source of his change, couldn't even name this weird sensation that rushed through his body and mind, ever since their eyes met, just before he let her die.
The Unnamed didn’t understand why Bertan wasn’t surprised to see him then nor disappointed by his betrayal. Her acceptance of that last revelation ruined him, shaken him to his core, and he couldn’t find a way to fix it in any way other than joining her. Somehow, he knew, nothing would bring him more pleasure in his long life than to meet the darkness and join with the newfound center of his world. Soon.
"You can leave your hiding place, boy, and join me. I can easily feel your hate from here," the Unnamed said loud enough for Genes to hear. "Nobody will be coming back here anytime soon. You don't need to fear me now boy," he stayed frozen in his place and position, disliking the idea of leaving Her side.
"Genes, my name is Genes," the whisper did nothing to hide the soft and almost inaudible steps the boy took to meet his nemesis.
"I will not harm you. The only thing that binds us at the moment is the only order Bertan gave me as the head of our Line House," the Unnamed finally managed to turn around and see Genes appear.
"What was the order?" the curiosity seemed never to leave the boy, ignoring the existence of the times of dread.
"To guard you with my life. Especially if she doesn't come back," the Unnamed told the truth as if it was the most natural thing to say.
"It doesn't look like she is coming back, does it?" the unbearable pain reigning over Genes poured through his voice and spilled through his eyes. No longer was he raging. It was blazing like a fire that he started to grieve.
"She is on a journey all of us will take some day." Some sooner some later, was the unspoken part, the Unnamed chose keep to himself only. It brought the wisps of peace to his core that he almost inhaled greedily, unwilling to share this blissful and addictive emotion. In that one fateful eye-link with Her, he changed in so many ways that he was starting to forget who he had been before. Before he let her die. No. Before he made her die. Still, that part of truth brought only a frown to his face. He wasn’t ready for it, yet.
"Why did you let it to be done to her? Why to kill her if now you are so graciously following her orders?" Genes sneered, feeling the hate welling up inside him was almost visible, ready to explode just then.
"You are too young to understand that," the Unnamed sighed deeply with sorrow, something he couldn’t quite name yet.
"That is surely lame excuse for not accepting the truth that you betrayed the head of your own Line House!" Genes screamed loudly enough to wake winds with the strength of his voice, "Of our house now," he added almost silently.
"There is loyalty to the House, and there is a larger form of loyalty to something higher and bigger than just you, your friend, or your family house. We need a King, a leader. We are not supposed to dwell in a small bickering when all of the Swords are failing at something bigger." The Unnamed tried to explain his reasoning to a young boy who didn't seem to understand the world beyond his small tribe.
"At what?" Genes yelled again.
"Living," the Unnamed answered after the echo finished its song.
"Is it really that easy to kill? Just for that?" Genes whispered, standing still. Deep breaths he took were the only sign of his state of mind.
"To kill for the happiness of your own family and all the people? It's not only just that easy boy, but it's also the only reason, to give your own life for." He frowned, surprised how empty those words felt now, void of any meaning and emotion. "I only had no idea it would hurt so much, to see her look at me for the last time, to watch her life fade away," The Unnamed added more to himself as if he was already unaware of Genes' presence nearby. He knew that the young ones don’t see the world beyond their heads. It was so easy for him to explain what younglings were doing wrong.
"Then why did you do it? Why did you let him do it?" Genes yelled in a homicidal rage that ignited once again when he looked one more time at the crumpled body on the floor. A blinding fire of hate worked him up. He took aim at the Unnamed with a small invisible blade that was hidden within his robes.
Surprised with the fierce force coming from Genes, unaware of the artifact shielding him and unwilling to hurt his only link to
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