She rose from her bed to look at the gathered Lamakai servants in their brown tabards who had just walked into her room, their talons clacking on the floor before they stood and looked down at her. A moment later, Sesuuk’s brother—the one who had captured them and had been called Kessiva—stalked in to glare at Esther.
In truth, she was pleased with how sick she felt. Her suspicions that they were putting something in her food or water continued, because the nausea wasn’t going away, and her head swam whenever she moved. She was pleased, however, because she thought she could use it to convince her captors to heal her.
“Whatever it is you want me to do, I won’t be able to do it,” she said heavily. “I’m still too ill with whatever you poisoned me with. It’s not going to work until you give me some of Sesuuk’s potions again.” She slurred her speech slightly. She had thought through this exact scene a hundred times, and she even knew what she had to ask for.
The potions that Sesuuk had been making her take ‘for her health’ had restored her, made her feel stronger than ever.
Kessiva just snarled at her, stalking across the room and grabbing her by the arm.
“Ow. Hey!”
“You can try. I am not giving you anything,” Kessiva growled, pushing her into the waiting arms of the servants.
“Hmph! I thought I was supposed to be a treasured tool? Your father promised!” Esther said, a shadow of her old anger rising in her.
Kessiva was right in her face a heartbeat later, aggressive and personal, with his forked tongue tasting the air between them. “You do not get to tell me what my father does and doesn’t want, do you hear me, human?!”
Oh, I see how this is going to go, Esther thought. As much as she despised Sesuuk now, it looked like he had been right about his younger brother. Kessiva was definitely very sensitive about his relationship with his father.
Esther gave Kessiva an acidic smile, and the snake-person hissed in disgust, turning on his heel as he left, the guards dragging Esther along after him.
She was led into the high, stone hallways of the underground complex—the home of the First Trine, led by the prophet-king himself. The walls here were also fantastically carved, and Esther saw more scenes with various shapes and sizes of serpents.
She tried to keep track of her surroundings. The very tall hallway leads to the inner courtyard with a fountain… We took the righthand path to the stairs… It was useless after the third or fourth turn, however. Eventually, she was only aware that they were continuously moving down.
They passed other Lamakai, who all nodded and hissed to Kessiva. They flicked their forked tongues or narrowed their eyes at Esther. She realized that she hadn’t seen any other races here yet. Hadn’t the prophet-king said there were humans here before? The Demenshii? Whatever had happened to them had been complete, because there weren’t any here now…
“Keep moving! Stay to the right!” Kessiva hissed after they turned through an archway to walk along a narrow gallery that overlooked a cavernous room. Esther stole a look over the side to see that there was strangely colored steam rising from vast copper vats, where more Lamakai stirred or added powders to the bubbling pots.
“What is that?!” Esther asked.
One of the guards hissed and prodded her with its staff.
“You already tasted one of our many potions. No more questions or I’ll push you into another!” Kessiva snapped.
Esther hissed back at him, but she didn’t say anything more. Inwardly, she wondered if this might be where they made the dream sand. That knowledge could be useful in the future.
The gallery met another open archway. There were glowing red crystals in the walls there, and they then walked down more steps than Esther could ever count. They crossed another abandoned hall and went down more stairs. Esther had already been tired and confused before she even started this trip, and now her legs and back ached.
How long was this journey going to go on? Just how deep was this place?!
They finally came to a wooden door that Kessiva unlocked with a heavy iron key. This led to a short corridor and another door, then another, before finally opening out into a large cavern, this time with natural stone walls and ceiling.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Inside, there was already a gathering of Lamakai. There were at least thirty guards, who she recognized because they dressed like Kessiva. Servants wore brown tabards, and the warriors wore white robes and part-plate armor.
Looking past the initial crowd, she saw the prophet-king at the center. A little distance away stood Sesuuk.
“What’s he doing here!” Esther snapped.
This time, Kessiva didn’t appear to mind her question.
Sesuuk had his hands bound before him in shining steel hoops, and his fancy robe had been replaced with a dull brown shift, yet his haughty sneer was the same as ever when he looked at Esther.
Was she imagining it, or was there a slight smile on his face?
“Human! Now is the time to see if what my eldest son says about you is true, and all our hopes can be realized!” the prophet-king called out in a voice brimming with power.
Esther again felt that invisible sweep of electricity sizzle over her body as the king’s blind head turned toward her.
Scanning me, she thought. That was the name for it, wasn’t it?
“I can see that you have great power within you, so I have high hopes, human. You would do well not to displease me…” he continued.
Esther snorted in a disgusted, frustrated way. “I can’t do anything! I told your other son already, you gave me too much dream sand. You need to give me the healing tonics that Sesuuk had if you want me to work for you!”
Kessiva moved, as fast as lightning, and Esther felt a sharp pain as he slapped her.
You have been struck by the Level 28 Lamakai Warrior. 45 Health deducted.
Esther cried out, staggering to one side before one of the guards grabbed her shoulders and held her up.
“You do not speak to the prophet-king in such a way!”
The response from the prophet-king was unexpected. “Second-son Kessiva! You will control yourself immediately! I cannot afford to have my human injured!” He had raised himself on his serpentine belly and was now looming over the guards, some of whom nervously moved back as the air around the prophet-king shimmered. Even where Esther stood before the throng, she could feel the power being exuded by this ancient being.
“My father, my king…” Kessiva immediately dropped to one knee, his hands held up to his reptilian brow.
Esther saw the prophet-king regard his son contemptuously before he slowly lowered himself back to his regular size. “Open the doors to the Lower Catacombs and the Altar of Fire!” the prophet-king stated.
There was a large, ancient wooden door with black iron bands set into the other side of the cavern. The door was easily two regular stories high, and Esther could see marks and scratches across its surface. A team of Lamakai warriors rushed to grab the chains that hung from iron rings in its surface and start to heave on them.
“First-son Sesuuk, do you have this concoction that the human speaks about?” the prophet-king asked as the door creaked and groaned open beyond him.
“I do,” Sesuuk said evenly.
Esther hissed at him in disgust, even as she felt a moment of hope. He had betrayed her, but maybe she could use this moment to her advantage. Take the potion, feel better, turn her powers on Sesuuk and his megalomaniac father…
But what happens after that? She was worried, but there was more anger than worry in her. She relied on the sole tactic that had served her well so far in her young life.
Screw it. I’ll work it out somehow…
“When you have stepped over the threshold, you may give it to the human. You will guide her to the Altar of Fire to reclaim the prism, do you understand?”
Esther saw Sesuuk’s eyes sparkle just a little as his tongue slid out to taste the air. She knew him well enough to interpret that look. He was excited.
“But you do realize, first-son Sesuuk, that even if you do manage to liberate the prism, you will still have to return here to me? You may dream of attempting to betray me again, but you will lose, my son. I have the entire First Trine, I have an army, and you are but one poor and misguided soul...” the prophet-king stated.
Sesuuk slowly dropped to one knee, his hands to his brow. “Of course I understand, Prophet-King. Purify the Prism of Fire and return with it,” Sesuuk said calmly, although Esther could see the cords in his neck knotting and twisting. He was either excited or very angry. Probably both.
“And, of course, to make sure that you do…” The prophet-king gestured to his cuffs. “I personally oversaw their creation. You will remain manacled, and you already know what effect they have on your abilities.” Sesuuk’s father chuckled.
Esther wondered what that effect was as Sesuuk slowly straightened up. She saw now that it was definitely anger.
“I understand, my king,” Sesuuk said harshly.
The grating sound from the door grew louder, and there was a waft of warm—no, hot—air.
Esther turned and saw that the large door now stood open, and the rest of the guards were moving to stand before it, lowering their spears and drawing their sabers.
What was on the other side? What was so awful out there?
She craned her neck to see over their tall forms, but she couldn’t see anything but a large, open chamber with a dull, ruddy glow. There was a tunnel at the far side, from which the glow appeared to be emanating.
“Second-son Kessiva, take the human and Sesuuk to the catacombs!” the prophet-king called out, but his words were cut short by a rumbling crash.
What? Esther turned again. The crash hadn’t come from the catacombs ahead but from something above and behind them. There was a series of dull thuds, almost like explosions.
“Kessiva! What is happening?!” the prophet-king roared.
The guards started to scramble, unsure of which way to go.
Another thud, this time followed by a louder explosion and a waft of smoke from the tunnel they had just come through.
There was a screech from the tunnel that led up, and a duo of Lamakai staggered forward, pulling themselves up short before they might run straight into the menacing spear points of the prophet-king’s guards.
“My king! It’s Prophet Keskul and the Second Trine! We are under attack!”