The rain didn’t suit him. Even the relentless cold of the space between was preferable to the wet cold of Binoth’s lake strewn surface. And it interfered with his mind gills. It was like getting water stuck in two longer and emptier ears, and while a lot of his Fian brethren seemed unbothered by it, Manes hated it. He’d heard it never rained on Oriai. A small moon of Abyssaros, he’d bought his new land there before coming on this job. Far away from the Zyrma and legally outside the Senate’s jurisdiction, Oriai was the perfect place for someone in his line of work to retire. He looked out over the dismal grey scene in front of him and felt the wind whip thick drops across his face. And no rain. The other two reasons were important, but right now he could only think about that.
Manes stood on the edge of his cosmare’s deck, purposely letting time pass. In front of him stretched the flatlands, all mud and lakes, there was very little movement. The rain caused a grey haze on the landscape that made it hard to see more than a few miles, despite the lack of elevation. It was early morning and he was the sole one up and moving. Normally he’d have his crew’s necks for their laziness, but right now there was nothing to do. They’d landed a few days ago, long enough for his men to get restless. Manes didn’t blame them. His glider wasn’t large enough to keep them dry under normal circumstances, much less with their client taking up the captain’s cabin. His cabin. He spit over the side of his animal-ship. In a show of comradery to his crew, Manes had claimed a terrible spot outside of the awnings next to the star plotters. He regretted it now. His men were likely to mutiny anyway, and he’d not had a moment of peace from the wet cold.
He waited until a pale light had firmly established itself against the fog and the clouds, illuminating a land of green moss and sagging trees. There was a call of some large animal in the distance, a deep thundering bellow, Manes took it as a cosmic sign that it was time. Turning toward his cabin, he noticed Jaan had risen as well, and was busying himself with retying knots that had never come undone. Jaan watched him approach, and made to say something, but Manes quieted him with a gesture. His navigator shot him a curious look but stayed silent, his fingers working rapidly and with deft practice. Jaan was the one other Fian on the ship, and the only man on the ship who Manes would consider a friend. The rest were employees at best, scoundrels at worst. He meant to leave the creature to Jaan when he retired, though he had yet to tell him. Manes wasn’t superstitious, per say, but their current client had promised a sum of money that bordered on too good to be true. The half she’d paid up front was already enough to make the trip worth it three times over. It was certainly enough to buy a simple trip to a planet, especially one in the Free Union. It was even enough to warrant minimal complaints and less questions. Hence the multiple days in the rain, sitting on a mysterious part of the planet he’d never been. It wasn’t enough, however, to keep inactive men from causing problems. And his cosmare had been particularly unruly.
Tezug sat in front of the door, as he always did, and he gave no indication that he noticed Manes approaching. If he was honest, the captain couldn’t tell if the massive creature was awake. A drasul, the ogre-like being had tiny eyes that sunk deep into his boulder of a head. His horns curled down from the sides, going around themselves three times before settling into blunt ends. Manes was fairly certain the tips had been cut off, as it didn’t look natural. Out of the horns dangled thick chains, much too large to be worn as jewelry, Tezug wore them regardless, causing there to be clear physical effort everytime he lifted his head from his chest. On his right shoulder he wore a piece of armor fashioned from the bones of some monster, though he covered the rest of himself in rags and haphazard cloth that hardly resembled clothes. On his lap rested the largest warhammer Manes had ever seen. While it was rare to meet a free drasul, Manes had seen a few in his years traveling the cluster. He’d never dealt with one before. It was Tezug who’d hired him, Tezug who’d paid him, Tezug who’d scouted his cosmare and vetted him and his crew. It’d taken until the day of departure for him to realize Tezug wasn’t the client.
“I need to talk to her.” Authority came easy to Manes and he spoke with it now. Tezug regarded him without moving. Manes continued to wonder if the beast was asleep until he spoke.
“My lady isn’t taking audiences.” Tezug’s voice was surprisingly smooth for something of his size. Hearing it always took Manes off guard.
“This isn’t a request.” The captain crossed his arms. Tezug watched him. “I need to know, my men need to know, what we are doing here.”
“You were hired under a certain understanding of discretion.”
“I have done what I can to respect your privacy. We are wet, and cold, and low on supplies. I was hired to take you two to Binoth, and not ask questions. I have done that. We can’t sit here forever.”
“You were hired to take us here and back.” Tezug corrected.
Manes set his jaw tight, trying to keep up a pretense of professionalism. “Then maybe you should inform your lady that it is time to go back.” Tezug didn’t answer. Manes took a step closer, his boots sliding forward on the wet deck. "If she refuses to explain her business here, I can't guarantee my crew will stay cooperative much longer. This kind of wait breeds problems."
Tezug tilted his head slightly, the massive chains rattling with the movement. “You would lose control of your men?”
“I can’t promise loyalty.” Manes continued. “There are thirty some crew on this cosmare. Most of them are new, I lost quite a few on the last job.” He’d also let Jaan do most of the hiring, seeing as soon they would be his men. “Half that is enough to mutiny, and I know more than half are out of patience. Either she speaks to me, or we’re leaving. You can find another fool willing to sit in the rain for days without answers." He took another step forward. Tezug stood. The drasul towered over him by nearly two meters, and Manes wasn’t short.
“If it’s discipline you’re lacking, I would be more than happy to provide your crew with incentives toward further patience.” The ogre’s face twisted, and Manes realized the thing was smiling. His mind gills tingled as he sensed particularly fearsome aggression lingering just below the surface of that disconcerting smile.
“Tezug, leave him be,” came a voice from within the cabin. “Let the pirate in.”
Still grinning, Tezug moved aside. Manes moved past the ogre, feeling decidedly small. He could feel eyes on his back and knew the exchange had been witnessed. A captain asking for permission to enter his own chambers. In his younger days, he never would have abided being so disrespected. As it was, he felt a pang of relief that the situation hadn’t yet escalated, and the now familiar suspicion that he was too old for this. Speaking practically, there was a chance the drasul could kill them all. He wondered if his crew knew that. It didn’t matter. The new men didn’t need to respect him. If anything, him looking weak would earn Jaan extra support when he took over. He noticed Tezug moved back in front of the door as Manes shut it behind himself. He wondered briefly if he’d have to ask to leave as well.
“Why, Captain Manes, it’s so early. Don’t you know it’s best not to trouble oneself while the sun is still coming up?” No longer stifled by a wall, the female voice’s musical quality was as enchanting as it was disarming. It put him on edge.
“Excuse me miss, but the sun on this world? Or on the last? It is so hard to keep track.” He turned to face her. “And some have two, or three, which complicates it a bit.”
“Ah, but those are the best, because when the sun is always coming up people are so untroubled.”
“I don’t think anyone is untroubled, miss, not in the cluster.” Manes noticed his cabin was warm, almost hot compared to the damp of the outside. It was dry, but that shouldn’t have been enough to account for the change of temperature. The room was dimly lit by the grey morning light as it came in through the windows on either wall. She was sitting in his chair, her feet up on his desk, his star charts and maps of various worlds pushed to the side. Despite her calling attention to the time of day, it hardly looked like he’d caught her sleeping. A quick glance told him his bed lay undisturbed, its one thin sheet folded nicely on top. And she was awake and dressed, her clothes a skin tight material that was foreign to him. A dark matte, it wrapped up her chest and was left short on her thighs, leaving her midsection and legs mostly exposed. Her body was all lean muscle, athletic curves that spoke to tireless training and quiet strength. Black waves of hair framed unique eyes, and while the rectangular bands of teal that were her irises caught his attention, they were not why he stared. Underneath her pale white skin was a lattice of light; her veins pulsed with a faint iridescence, streaking across her exposed flesh in a variety of patterns. It gave her beauty a haunted feeling, and Manes had never seen the like. The two of them had not interacted since they’d met for the first time, a few minutes before leaving Titan, and she looked just as she had then. Taken aback by the drasul’s unexpectedly beautiful companion, and not knowing they’d be idle on the planet for so long, he’d offered his cabin without thinking. She’d accepted, offering him a hand that felt too delicate to go along with the rest of her appearance. Thank you, Captain Manes. She’d said after he touched the back of it to his lips. You can call me Juno.
And his cosmare had been particularly unruly.
Juno watched him now from behind his own desk, an unreadable expression on her face. She’d been toying with a small black orb when he entered, moving it slowly between her hands. Its surface was perfectly smooth, and looked as if it should be reflective, but wasn’t, sucking in light similar to her clothing. Manes reached out with his mind gills and felt an outpouring of calm, so strong and so certain as to produce in him the opposite emotion. His gut told him he should trust her with his life, and the feeling came as easy as drowning in an ocean. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, which were a dark line on the slightly tan skin of her face, as if his response had amused her in some way. In spite of his best efforts, Manes found his frustration and impatience melting under her gaze. A voice in the back of his head reminded him that she wouldn’t be able to do whatever this was to thirty men. If he didn’t get an answer out of her soon, someone would start something and then Tezug would likely kill most, or all, of them. And then when she spoke he thought maybe everything would be fine after all.
“You are impatient, captain.” Juno put the sphere down as she spoke, setting it carefully on his desk.
“But not without patience.” Manes was determined not to let the conversation get away from him. “I have humored you for as long as I can. I need something to give my men.”
Juno shrugged. “Give them their pay. Remind them why they’re here.”
“Money is little comfort when it can’t be spent.”
“You and your crew stand to lose a lot more by breaking our arrangement.”
“Normally we would. But what you’ve given us already is more than enough to warrant this trip. Frankly, miss, your monster out there is the only thing that’s kept us from dumping you off the side and leaving this mud pit far behind. And the longer the men spend in the rain, the more likely they are to decide they can do that regardless.”
“You would break your word, if you could?”
Manes gave her a curious look. “We’re pirates.”
She laughed. It was an empty sound. He had to stop himself from shivering. “Yes, yes you are. And you mustn’t worry. I will give you answers. We are waiting for a guide, a local to take us on a path only they know. He will be here momentarily. Today I believe. Then I ask you to select six of your men to accompany me and Tezug on our journey. Should our trip go smoothly, I estimate we’ll return in less than two days. At which point you will take us back to Titan and be paid the rest you are owed.”
Juno stood then, swinging her legs down from the desk, and the way she moved reminded Manes of a predator rising from a crouch; smooth, deliberate, and unhurried. Previously hidden by the lip of the desk, she was wearing a utility belt lined with pockets. In the same smooth motion she grabbed the black orb from where she’d put it, tucking it away.
“Is this sufficient information to keep your crew under control?” She asked him.
He nodded. He opened his mouth to speak but she wasn’t done.
“I take it the promise of a small fortune is enough to warrant a few more days in the rain. Especially once I’m gone, and the officers can crowd into this nice cabin.” Juno walked around the desk and picked up a long slender object that had been leaning against the far wall. Manes hadn’t noticed it until she touched it. He had no idea how. A sheathed sword, the hilt shimmered in such a way as to make it impossible to miss. Yet he had. She gripped just above the hilt and watched him expectantly.
“Eh, yes.” Manes stumbled over his words. “It is only that…” He hesitated. She didn’t prompt him, her stare unflinching. “I’ve ripped off the rich many times before. But something tells me you know you’re overpaying. And that makes me… nervous.”
Juno’s face turned dark. “Are you a nervous man, Captain Manes?”
“No.” He put effort into the word and was happy that it came out firm.
There was a moment of breathless silence, and then her smile returned. “Good. I’m glad I was not mistaken. Now, prepare your men. Remember, I need six.”
As Manes turned toward the door, he’d already picked out six expendables. He had no intention of waiting around to play chauffeur to a monster and its eerily beautiful master. Once the eight of them were off the cosmare, the second they were out of sight, they’d be leaving this planet far behind. Small fortune be damned. His hand was on the handle when Juno spoke again.
“Oh, and I forgot to mention, you must be one of the six.”
He glanced back over his shoulder at her. She wasn’t even looking at him, instead leaned over his desk, appearing to study one of his maps.
“Insurance.” She added. “After all, as you so helpfully reminded me, you are pirates.”
It wasn’t one guide, but two that appeared a few hours after Manes' conversation with Juno. They were Inoth, stout for their species, with oily skin of a deep seaweed green color. Both had the characteristic tattoos, though different colors. One was marked with deep red slashes, while the other had swirls of an earthy, mud brown. They approached the cosmare hesitantly, calling in their croaking, harsh voices. Juno was already on the deck when they arrived, and had Tezug carry her down to speak with them. Meanwhile, Manes checked with the five that had elected to come with him. After announcing what Juno had told him and requested of them, and explaining he was leaving Jaan in charge of the ship, he asked for volunteers. It wasn’t hard to get them. He tried to pick five of those that would be the most troublesome while he was away, but trusted Jaan would be able to keep a handle on things, for a few days at least. He had, in a quick private word, told his friend should it come between leaving him or facing mutiny himself, Jaan was to get off the forsaken mud world and never look back.
It was not long before they embarked. It wasn’t yet past midday, and though they were not as forthcoming with him as they seemed to be with Juno, Manes was able to gather from the guides that they didn’t have far to go. Yet their pace was agonizingly slow. The ground was anything but solid, and Manes and his men found themselves sinking down past their shins with each step. They were all soaked, the rain never relented. Tezug moved with equal, if not greater difficulty, his massive bulk causing him to sink so low it appeared he waded more than walked forward, churning through the earth with sheer force of will. Juno didn’t make his life any easier. She had attached a large, chair-like backpack to the orge, and rode on top it, leaned back with her feet up on his shoulder. It had a thin awning and three sides of canvas keeping the water off of her, and if anything Manes thought she looked bored. He’d heard drasul were proud creatures. It was part of why the Zyrma had gone to such lengths to subjugate their species. Why a free drasul would ever allow himself the humiliation of being a glorified pack animal, Manes couldn’t understand. Their guides were unbothered by the travel, used to the unstable surface of their homeworld, and their widespread webbed feet let them walk lightly on top of the viscous mud. One of them seemed anxious over their lack of progress, constantly glancing behind them, bug-like eyes bulging, before turning to his companion and rattling off in their native language.
For Manes and his five crew, it was a grueling day. When they finally came to a patch of solid ground, made so by a thick entangle of deep rooted trees, it was already well past dark. It was a silent camp. All of the five Manes had picked to come with him were new, and they all seemed to regret volunteering. They set up their strips of canvas in the thicket, trying to find a spot at least somewhat sheltered from the rain, and hunkered down for a cold and sleepless night. Tezug took off his chair-pack, and Juno unfurled the fourth side, creating a pseudo tent. She didn’t come out. The drasul sat next to it, neither trying to set up shelter nor seeking it, staring expressionless out into the grey bogs as buckets worth of rain rolled off him unnoticed. The pair of Inoth disappeared into the night, but not before giving Juno a time they would be back for them in the morning. Again, Manes thought how this would have bothered his younger self. Despite the nature of the contract, he should have been counseled. As it was, he wrapped himself in thick, oiled tarp and waited for the sun to rise.
Manes gave up on sleep earlier than the others, and got up to relieve himself the second there was enough light for him to see. On his way back, he noticed one of the sides of Juno’s shelter had been pulled back. Curiosity getting the better of him, he wandered around the underbrush, his eyes on his feet in an effort to avoid falling into a mud pit. About a hundred meters from where they’d camped was a small pool. And in that pool he found Juno. He saw her clothes first, hung atop a branch, and before his better thoughts had time to convince him to turn around, Manes saw her. At first glance he thought she was bathing, but there was so much mud, even in this relatively clear pool, the notion seemed ridiculous. Juno was standing waist-deep in the water, her back to him, and the faint light filtering through the trees played over her bare skin, making it almost shimmer. He blinked, realizing it wasn’t just the water glistening on her; it was steam.
The rain, soft but steady, hissed faintly as it struck her shoulders and arms, curling upward in thin wisps before fading into the humid air. Her body radiated heat. He could see it now, the subtle glow of her veins shifting beneath her skin, like the pulse of embers buried under ash. For a moment, he forgot himself, rooted in place. She moved slightly, trailing her fingers across the surface of the pool, and he noticed how the water around her seemed to ripple with unnatural force, as if repelled. Her head turned slightly, and then she shifted, rotating smoothly to face him. There was no surprise in her expression, no startlement at being seen. Her banded eyes, glowing faintly in the dim light, locked onto his, sharp and unblinking.
“You’re awake early, captain.” Juno said, her tone casual.
“As is my nature, miss.” Manes answered with a quick swallow, forcing himself to keep his gaze on her face. Her lack of clothing didn’t seem to bother her in the slightest, her posture loose and confident, she made no move to cover herself. He fought to keep his voice steady, aware he had been caught, in a sense, though his intention had never been to stare. His heart beat a little faster, not out of any primal curiosity but from the sheer alien intensity of her presence. “You are up early yourself, and I can’t help but wonder at the purpose.”
“Cooling off,” she replied simply. She reached up, brushing damp strands of hair back from her face. The steam curling off her seemed to intensify with the motion. “I tend to run… hot. And while not strictly necessary, it feels good. As some unnecessary things tend to.” The way she said it, with a hint of amusement in her voice, set him on edge.
“Right,” Manes found his eyes drifting down, to the curves of her breasts and the subtle flexing of her abdomen, to where the water settled just below her navel. He was respectful, but he wasn’t a saint, and she seemed anything but distressed at his presence. “Well, I can’t say it sounds like the worst idea, but unfortunately I don’t share your heat, and a plunge in this weather seems sure to kill me.”
Her lips turned into a pout. Manes felt mocked more than flirted with. “What a pity. And here I was starting to think I might like you.”
He shifted his weight. “I hope you still might. But I didn’t mean to intrude, and will leave you to it.”
“Always so ready to flee.”
“I didn’t mean–”
“I don’t bite.” She cut him off.
Manes paused. “I’m sorry if this is out of turn, but something tells me you most assuredly do.” Juno’s laughter was soft, different from her laugh in the cabin the previous morning. It made him take a reflexive step back. “I suppose– I’ll let you be, I mean.”
“Suite yourself.” Her smile deepened even as she turned away, and he felt discarded, like a mildly interesting toy. She sank lower into the pool and said nothing more.
Manes turned back the way he had come, moving quickly. He tried not to move so fast as to feel like he was running, but it didn’t help his nerves. The image of her standing there, exposed from the waist up, staring at him with a curving smile, burned in his mind. And as he retreated back toward camp, he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d gotten close to something dangerous. It was the same feeling he got when approaching a wild animal, especially one likely to rip out his throat. Back at camp a few of the crew gave him questioning looks, but he told them nothing.
She had attached a large, chair-like backpack to the orge, and rode on top it
They first saw the temple while it was still morning. Manes only knew to call it a temple because he overheard Tezug asking about it. Their guides came for them at the set time, and the party followed the solid land for about an hour before continuing the trudge through more bogs. At first the temple seemed more a shadow than a structure, a dense thickening of the fog that materialized itself into stone as they got closer. It was lower than them, and they approached the lip of the valley through a thick growth of vines that made it hard to judge distance. Manes thought they were much closer than they were, and found himself surprised and frustrated with their progress. He couldn’t help but wonder if the guides took them on a circuitous route on purpose, perhaps they enjoyed watching the off-worlders struggle, resented them for their ignorance. The suspicion made little sense and offered the captain even less comfort. He was happy, at least, that Juno had been correct about the length of their journey. It would take them slightly more than half a day to return to the ship, once her business here was concluded.
It took another hour after first catching a glimpse of the temple for them to see it in full. The path narrowed, the swamp thickening with each step, the air heavy with the scent of damp earth, decaying mold and faint sulfur. The constant murmur of croaking frogs and other, less friendly creatures, drowned out their party’s own silence. They came to the edge of a short cliff, from which they could clearly see what waited for them below. A mass of stone overgrown with layers of lichen and moss, covered in creeping vines, the walls were a grey-green that blended with the environment, the low hanging clouds of fog periodically swallowing it in blurry haze. The temple’s base was squat, but as it rose higher it tapered into a series of sharp, angular spires. The transition from base to spire was not smooth; the upper levels seemed to strain against their foundation, each column leaning slightly outward, the result of centuries of instability and relentless weather. The entrance was lined with pillars that were barely visible, the crumbling stone appeared almost supported by the thick growth of vegetation.
They took a break here, on the exposed bluff looking down at the temple, and Juno had an argument with their guides. The anxious guide, as Manes had taken to calling the skittish one, said something in his native tongue to his companion. The tone was unmistakably urgent. And Juno had, to the surprise of everyone there, interjected. No one seemed more surprised she could speak the language of the Inoth than the guides themselves, but that didn’t stop them from talking back to her. What happened next, happened fast, the total exchange only a few back and forths. She clearly upset them. The anxious guide stormed off into the mist, while the other one, who until this moment Manes considered reserved, spit at her feet, saying words he didn’t need to speak the language to understand, before following his companion. Manes and his crew stared at Juno.
“What happened?” He asked her.
“They don’t want to take us down into the valley. They say it’s sacred.”
“And you intend to…” Manes didn’t need to ask.
“I have business in the temple.” Juno said. “And I need you and your men. I’m sure we can find our own way from here.”
“And if I’m concerned about the locals?”
“You told me yourself, you’re not a nervous man.” She studied the path they’d been on, little more than a dent in the mud, then nodded and climbed back atop Tezug’s back. The drasul seemed utterly apathetic toward anything happening. “We’ll lead. Just follow. Nothing more than what you’ve been doing.”
Manes had felt the emotions of the Inoth as they’d left, with an intuition that made it closer to reading their minds. As was the power of the mind gills, the gift of the Fian people. What he’d sensed went beyond mere reverence toward a sacred space. What he’d sensed was much closer to the anger and fear of someone being threatened. Of having something dear to them be threatened. He knew it all too well. He’d used it. He’d be a hypocrite to call Juno out on it. It was not knowing why she used it, or what exactly she was threatening that bothered him. He could also sense his men’s uneasiness. Manes glanced around at the five less than familiar faces looking to him for direction. Two were lysari, the other three human refugees. He’d picked them because they were short lived, short tempered species. Expendables. Juno was smart for making him come. She knew he’d look to preserve himself and put someone in charge that would wait for him, at least for a while. He’d done exactly that. He sighed and told them to follow her.
At the entrance, Juno told Manes to wait with Tezug, but needed the others to come in with her. When he asked why, she leaned in close and said it was because she’d decided she liked him. It sent a chill down his spine. But he nodded. He told his men to follow her. One of the humans asked what for.
“Carrying things. Tezug can’t fit.” She said it fast. “You’re all manpower. Now come with me if you want to make some money.” The six of them disappeared inside the crumbling stone mountain.
There were four long steps that stretched the entirety of the entrance, leading up to the pillars. Tezug sat at the base of these. Manes made one or two attempts at conversation. The drasul made no effort to respond. The silence between them was eerie, broken only by the sound of rain drops hitting stone. Manes paced the steps. He wondered if he would be able to find his way back to the cosmare by himself, if he needed to. They’d not changed direction too much, he was fairly certain he could get back, though whether it would be before Jaan left, about that he was less sure. His men were dead. There was nothing to tell him why he knew this, he just did. He’d known the moment Juno asked him to stay with Tezug. And he’d let them go, no, told them to go with her. Manes clenched his jaw. It didn’t matter, he’d sent dozens of men to their deaths. As long as he got back. And out of this damn rain. It was then that he heard it.
A low rhythmic thumping. The unmistakable sound of heavy footfalls. Hundreds of them. “Tezug–” He called as he turned to find the child of Dran already standing. The massive creature was facing the sound and Manes recognized the smile on his face. Looking beyond him, Manes saw the Inoth warriors start to appear at the foot of the valley. There were too many to count, especially as they seemed to dance with the fog, their numbers fading in and out. They were many colored, and varied to such an extent as to seem like they were making up for their dreadfully one note planet. All different sizes and lengths, with swirling tattoos of blue, purple, red, brown and green, their fish-like eyes bulged as they took in the two foreigners. Most of them held staves, the weapon of their people, it was a staff with a sharpened tip. Manes recognized both their guides standing near the front. They were coming fast, and made no move to slow.
“Tezug!” He called again. “We should go inside, find the others. Or let me talk to them.”
“My lady is not to be disturbed.”
“You cannot hope to fight them?”
The ogre said nothing, but his grin broadened. And he lifted his warhammer off the ground, where it had been resting, taking it in a two handed grip. The Inoth were close now, and spitting insults. Manes had a sword at his side and he knew how to use it. But this was insane. And he was no warrior. He didn’t wait to see what unfolded before those stone stairs. Instead he ran up them and into the darkness of the temple.
The light from the entrance faded fast. While the expanse of the pillars would suggest a large opening, he was instead directed down one central hall that continued to constrict as he went deeper into the stone structure. He heard the sounds of a clash, far behind him now, and then there was a turn and it faded. Just as Manes was beginning to worry the darkness would consume him completely, he realized the tunnel was getting lighter again. And then the smell hit him. A nauseating blend of iron, decay, and something else, something sickly sweet. It perfumed his nostrils, causing him to gag and raise an arm to try and block it out, to little effect. The walls narrowed even further as the tunnel took him around a few more twists, and then it opened up all at once. He found himself in a vast chamber, lit by natural light that came from holes worked into the stone. It was the heart of the temple. And it was filled with bodies. Dozens and dozens of bodies.
They were sprawled across the floor, the corpses of Inoth littering every corner, their vibrant skin dull, their bulging eyes staring blankly into nothing. Theirs was a thin, watery blood, and it covered the floor, running to fill every crevice. Manes realized he’d been walking in it for a while without noticing, and the thought made him sick. There was no sign of struggle, no weapons scattered around, no evidence of any fight. These were not warriors. They had been slaughtered, and recently; the room was still hot. His hand moved reflexively to his sword, though he didn’t draw it. Manes knew the person responsible had moved on. He took a step forward and almost slipped in the grotesque pool, and so forced himself to move carefully through the grisly display.
The visual was bad enough, but Manes was being assaulted with something far worse. The echoes. The sharp, searing fragments of their deaths. He clutched his head, gasping as the residual energy of their final moments struck him like a wave. Screams filled his ears, overlapping and incoherent, a cacophony of pain and fear. The mind gills on the sides of his head flared, overloading his senses, pulling him into a storm of dying thoughts. He stumbled, barely catching himself against the cold stone wall. His legs felt like lead, his vision blurred, but he forced himself onward. The slaughter continued, Inoth bodies were slumped against walls, draped over tables, left stabbed in their chairs, their blood causing a gruesome flood. He couldn’t stay here, not with their deaths lingering, clawing at his sanity.
Then, all at once, Manes found himself across the room. He pushed himself forward into another corridor, his steps hurried, his heart beating fast. The death echoes lessened. Walking became easier. He was able to catch his breath. Pausing, he gripped his sword hilt with his trembling hand. He’d seen many horrible sights through his years, felt many terrible emotions, and caused quite a few of them himself. And never had he witnessed something as horrible as that. To have caused that much anguish, to have relished in it so totally… Manes shuddered. He felt old, terribly old. Glumly, he realized his boots were ruined. Looking ahead, he saw this new tunnel also opened up. He slowly realized he could hear chanting. There was fear in his chest. But he couldn’t go back, not yet. Increasingly cautious, he continued on, and after a few steps, peered into another chamber.
The first thing he noticed were his men. All five of them crouched in a semi circle before a ruined mountain of stone. It was a different stone than what the temple was constructed from, a different color, this stone was black. His men knelt like they were at prayer, on their knees with heads bowed. And around them danced three hideous beings. They weren’t Inoth, at least, not anymore. They were bisected, two halves of different things fused together. Their bottom was scaled, held up with many mantis-like legs that moved in spasms and twitches, jerky and unnatural. Their top halfs could have been Inoth, at one time, but were horribly disfigured. They’d been ballooned, rolled with fat until they sat with gluttonous weight on their insect legs, arms outstretched in as much a dance as a desperate grasp for balance. Hair sprouted in irregular patterns from skin that was not meant to have it, shaggy and unkempt. And the eyes, Inoth eyes, the normally protruding bulbous spheres were grotesquely shrunken, sitting above gaping jaws that opened so far as to appear ripped apart.
The creatures moved in unison, each one gripping a staff, arms raised high. They chanted furiously. It was a language that Manes didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend. The sound was not made for mortal ears, a guttural shriek of overlapping tones that vibrated through the walls and into his bones. His gills flared suddenly, a sharp pain that sent his mind into a whirling cyclone of despair. For it wasn’t the chanting that froze him in place, it was something else. A vast unknowable weight that was slowly pressing on all those in the room, bearing down on them with cosmic enormity. Whatever this thing was, it dwarfed him in every conceivable way, reducing everything he was to a single, fleeting spark. A spark destined to go out. He felt it so clearly, so terribly, and yet understood it not at all. His mind threatened to shatter. In a brief instance, a faint part of his mind that could still claim autonomy recognized what he felt was not a thing, but a presence.
Then it began.
The chanting reached a crescendo and Manes’ men started to shrink. One by one, they turned their heads upward in a silent scream, and then their flesh caved inward. There was no sound. Their bodies simply collapsed. Squeezed until there was nothing but a dry, hollow husk. Manes wanted to look away. He wanted to run away. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t shut his eyes. His mind overwhelmed, he could do nothing but stand and stare as one by one all five of them were reduced to nothing. They’re expendable, the small autonomous part of his brain reminded him. But then his mind gills flared with their last agony. Forced to watch, his eyes glazed over, he felt tears on his cheeks. By the time it was over, the creatures shuddered violently all at once, and their chanting ceased as they fell limp before the black pile of stone. Before the altar. And all at once the presence was gone.
The chanting reached a crescendo
For one, breathless moment, nothing moved. And then from the shadows stepped Juno. Her slender sword drawn, dripping blood, it gleamed a fantastic color in the low light, one close to that of her veins. She moved with slow precision, stepping to the first of the three creatures. Manes noticed its chest still heaved, though as Juno raised her sword and ran it through it didn’t so much as flinch. None of them did. As she moved carefully from one to the next, the creatures didn’t fight back. They couldn’t. Whatever force had sustained them was gone. The final creature let out a faint, wet gurgle. Manes, distantly, realized he could move again. But his body betrayed him. His legs refused to carry him away. Instead he remained frozen, watching as Juno stepped onto the dais, kicking aside the husks so shriveled they could hardly be called corpses. There was something there, something they had all circled around. She grabbed it with her free hand. A black sphere, made from the same rock as the altar. It was exactly like the black orb she’d been playing with the previous morning, in his cabin. No, it was that black orb. No wait… this one was bigger. No… he didn’t know. Manes’ brain wasn’t working, he felt like there was something crackling behind his eyes. He couldn’t think, there was so much feedback in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing for it to go away. Again, he felt old. He opened his eyes. And met Juno’s.
Her rectangular bands looked right at him, her face an expression a foolish man would call sad. “Oh, Captain.” Her voice was so soft, Manes couldn’t believe he could hear it at this distance. And yet it was clear, directly in his ear, more intimate than his own heartbeat. “I wish you had stayed with Tezug. I did rather like you.”
Manes finally moved. He turned and ran. He ran and he ran and he ran toward his ship. He didn't run fast enough.