Chapter 20: The Death Ritual

The reason the Desolate One even bothered with our family is because of you, my son. You are the only one who can take his place one day, and perhaps even surpass him, becoming the undisputed ruler of the Dark Races that populate the Forbidden Galaxies. You alone can become the new Dark Dragon Lord of this age.

“And that’s how Lord Gregory became our puppet. The poor fool never even realized we were manipulating him with Dark Water. He thought the conspiracy against the Ministries was his idea. His dislike of Elementals in general made it easy for us. People are so much easier to control through their own prejudices.”

Eramar once again had a difficult time suppressing the urge to hit the High Mage as hard as he could. His fist shook from the effort, and not just from the waves of evil that emanated from the man, if this thing could be called a man anymore. The High Mage had spun quite a tale over the last few hours, willingly divulging his cult’s involvement in recent woes. This was by far the strangest interrogation Eramar had ever conducted. It wasn’t a question of getting the man to talk, but getting him to talk about what Eramar really wanted to know. So far, the High Mage had managed to direct this interrogation perfectly to his liking, mostly revealing information that the Fire Ministry already knew, or at least suspected.

Once or twice, the High Mage mentioned a name from the high nobility that Eramar thought he gave up too easily. It was entirely possible the man might’ve been misleading them with fake names of Mage sympathizers, but he recorded the names just in case. More than a few were within Chissler’s inner circle, further deepening Eramar’s suspicion that the Emperor himself was involved with the Mystics and Mages. But again, the High Mage might’ve just been spinning a tale, divulging to Eramar only what he wanted to hear to sow further hostilities between the Ministries and the Emperor.

“We were hoping for more damage, of course,” continued the High Mage conversationally, describing his dreams of mass genocide as if he were discussing a disappointing day at the market. “Maybe some civilian casualties, but we were satisfied with the results overall. Reconstruction is still undergoing. Many businesses have been shut down even with the Ministries and Gregory Industries taking fiscal responsibility. People are growing discontent with Elemental security, or lack thereof. It won’t be long until the citizens are rioting in the streets, calling for your disbandment.”

Konamay suddenly slammed his fist down on the stone table one of their Movers had erected for the interrogation. The table cracked under the blow of Konamay’s fist. “We have gone to great pains to provide work for those who lost their trades because of the Civil War, giving them access to goods and trade routes usually only available to the Ministries! Yes, a few people are discontented, but most citizens know that we have their best interests at heart as always, at least those with us here in District 9!”

Eramar almost raised a hand to quiet the furious Wielder, but it was his sister, Erica, who beat him to the punch. The female Wielder took Konamay by his quivering arm and slowly removed his hand from the table.

“Robert. He’s purposefully trying to rile you. The more angry you become, the more his power might influence you. I know for a fact that Monks are partially empathic. It might be true for Mages as well. He could be manipulating your emotions more than you know.”

Konamay shook off his sister, but then slowly, lowered his eyes. “Forgive me for my outburst, Eramar. Continue the interrogation.”

Before Eramar continued, he glanced over to the few telepaths he had on hand. Chris from the Fire Ministry, and Jill from the Water Ministry. “Can you tell if he is lying about any of this?”

Again, the two telepaths frowned. “He isn’t lying, that much we can tell for sure. But he is managing to hold something back,” answered Jill, the female Thinker from the Water Ministry.

Chris took up immediately where Jill left off as if they were already in each other’s minds. The synchronicity of telepaths could be disconcerting. “There are more collaborators than he’s letting on, but mostly, he’s trying to hide something about this ... this sanctum, I think he calls it in his own mind. There’s some kind of mechanism in this place he doesn’t want us to know about ... at least, not yet.”

“Is it some kind of trap for us?” Eramar asked.

Both telepaths stared intently at the Hight Mage, who simply smiled pleasantly at them with his stumps - where his hands used to be - folded in front of him on the tabletop. Erica’s Psionic Whip was still wrapped around the man’s torso, as well as some silver-glowing suppressant ropes designed to seal the powers of those with special Elemency. However, even with all these precautions, the High Mage’s relaxed temperament made Eramar feel like the prisoner.

The Thinkers both shook their heads at the same time. “We don’t think so. At any rate, he’s very confident that we won’t be able to find it,” answered Jill.

Chris took up the explanation when she finished. “All other portions of his mind are well guarded behind layers of telepathic shielding from a Thinker well beyond our abilities. It will take a long time to unravel all the blocks on his psyche, even with the help of other Thinkers.”

The two even talked in similar fashion despite one being a man and one being a woman. Since knowing Kormal, Eramar had come to accept the quirks of telepaths, especially when there were two in the same room together. They were probably having multiple conversations with one another without anyone knowing.

Eramar turned a smoldering gaze back at the High Mage, tapping his fingers together thoughtfully. “Alright, you’ve gone on long enough about things you clearly don’t mind talking about. Now let’s have a conversation that might be a little out of your comfort zone. Tell me about the Cthulhu that were here.”

“Ah, the Lord Corrupter’s Children,” mused the High Mage, a proud smile crossing over his hideous lips. “His flesh made manifest in the Physical Realm. The Desolate One himself would’ve been proud of our work. We followed his instructions precisely and produced four of the most putrid and bloodthirsty beasts straight from the Shadow Realm. It took dozens of ‘volunteers’ before we got the mixture right. But then, just this past month, we managed to manifest them. Brothers Gorv, Remsin, and Neville, and Sister Shay. They were so proud to be the sacrifices that made up the main bodies for the Cthulhu. I still felt a glint of their consciousness within the beasts whenever they looked at me.”

Erica leaned in dangerously close. “You use human sacrifices to create those things Eramar told us about?”

“But of course. Nothing worth achieving is done without sacrifice. I thought at the very least, you Elementals understood that. After all, do you not sacrifice much time and energy in training to better yourselves and master your abilities the way you do? And the swarms of enemies you kill to maintain peace in the Empire ... are they not sacrifices? All the followers of the true faith understand these concepts, that’s why they gave their lives happily.”

“I couldn’t care less what you demented fools do to yourselves to achieve your twisted ideals.” As Erica spoke, her Psionic Whip of blue energy glowed a bit brighter, and the High Mage gave a slight twitch of discomfort. “But these ‘volunteers’ you spoke of. I take it those came from your prisoners. How many of them actually went willingly to their deaths?”

The High Mage gave a shrug. “Hmm. I’d say all of them, at least after we threatened them with something far worse than death.”

The High Mage’s face then twisted into a derisive sneer. “These people you protect. They’re far too soft. You Elementals coddle them too much. Keep them so far removed from danger and pain that they might as well be children. They know nothing of the harsh realities of this universe. I can’t help but wonder if they are truly worth your devotion. They might be if you allowed a little more suffering to come their way. Maybe they wouldn’t whine so much if you actually let them grow a little. Nothing motivates growth better than anguish.”

Erica yanked on his rope, and the High Mage winced. “Yeah, funny you should mention anguish, because I feel like dishing a little out.”

“Now who’s letting their emotions get riled?” murmured Konamay with a smirk.

Erica gave her brother a withering glare, but before she could say anything else, Eramar raised a hand. “Back to pertinent matters. You say these creatures were created within this last month. That’s a lovely birthing story. I’m sure you’re a very proud parent. Still doesn’t answer my question on your ‘children’s’ whereabouts.”

The High Mage chuckled quietly to himself. “Oh, but of course. You are eager to find the creatures that infiltrated your precious Vaults. The fake Core they retrieved was what led you to us, but I do not begrudge the children this. Children only act in accordance with their parents’ wishes.”

Erica raised an eyebrow in Eramar’s direction. “Fake Core? Vaults? Care to explain, Eramar?”

“Actually, I don’t,” replied Eramar in a tone that broached no argument.

Erica’s face twisted into a smug grin. “I was wondering when the façade of comradery would fail.”

“We are allies in this mission, not confidants. The only reason you’re all here is because Zanderius suggested it. But despite his ideals for a future where all Ministries become one, for the moment, we are still separate Ministries. I don’t begrudge you your secrets, so don’t begrudge me mine.”

“But, Eramar,” said Konamay, rubbing his fingers together and seeming genuinely hurt. “We bonded over a mug of ale. Well, more than one mug.”

Eramar groaned, rubbing his forehead. “Don’t remind me.”

Turning back to the High Mage who was still grinning like a peacock, Eramar continued. “We’re getting off-topic. You’re very good at that, it would seem. But no more stalling. You said you would answer my questions. Well, start answering them. Where are those Cthulhu?”

“Hmm,” muttered the High Mage as he licked his lips and then pressed them together into a frown. “That’s right. One of the children didn’t return. I take it we have you to thank for that, Demon-Slayer. The others were in such a state when they came back that they needed rest. So inconsolable were they at the loss of their brother that they simply went to pieces.”

Eramar huffed under his breath, rising from his chair angrily. He didn’t want to resort to torture, not only because it probably wouldn’t work, but he felt it would be playing into the madman’s hands somehow (that is, if he still had hands). But still, loss of limbs was nothing compared to burning flesh. Eramar knew from experience. There was still plenty of the masochist’s skin left to peel if necessary.

“Hey, Eramar!” called Victor over from one of their excavation sites. “You better come take a look at this!”

Glancing over where Victor and the other Elementals were exploring the catacombs, Eramar quickly came to a decision. He somehow got the feeling that this man wanted them to torture him, so he chose Victor’s discovery as a distraction from his own ‘riled emotions’.

“Stay on him,” Eramar said to Erica. “Let me know if he says anything else, no matter how inconsequential it may seem.”

“And we’re supposed to take your orders, why, mister ‘we’re allies, not confidants’?” asked Erica, folding her arms under her breasts.

“Because of the three of us, I’m the only one currently not in the thralls of a sibling rivalry, and am the most reasonable as a result.”

Konamay chuckled and pointed at Eramar. “I need to bring him along more often. He debates just like a woman.”

Erica sighed. “One of these days, you will be at a loss for words, Demon-Slayer, and I will be there to witness it and mock accordingly.”

“Don’t hold your breath,” said Eramar wryly.

As Eramar made his way to Victor, he keyed into the scouts that had gone back to the surface to guide the Patrollers inside. “What’s the progress on those transports?”

“At least ten minutes out, Wielder Razor, and we’re bringing medevacs too. The Patrollers have agreed to escort the hostages out of the sewers while we continue the investigation,” replied the Medic from the wrist communicator.

“Good man. Let me know as soon as you arrive.”

During their investigation from the last hour, the telepaths had discovered that there were more hostages than those in the main gathering place. Many more. There was a lower level of catacombs where they kept dozens of prisoners. Perhaps even hundreds. The former prisoners were gathered near the exits with a full squad of Healers guarding them and providing first aid treatment. It was agreed that the hostages shouldn’t be forced to trudge their way back to the surface, so the Patrollers were informed to bring in a large caravan of transports down to them. They had to use small, one-man vehicles, such as hover carts and the like, in order to navigate the sewers, so that required a lot more drivers and crafts, hence the long wait.

They did eventually manage to burn their way through the reinforced doors using their Psionic Weapons, though with some difficulty. And the Dark Water that fell from above had stopped pouring when the Mages were defeated. They had finished accounting for the remains of their dead, which they gathered as respectfully as they could in one side of the chamber before awaiting transport for funeral arrangements. They piled the bodies of their enemies on the opposite end of the chamber. So the only thing that kept them there were the hostages and the nagging feeling Eramar had that told him there was something here he needed to find. Though he hated having to stay close to three pools of condensed Dark Water. He would have simply created a portal for the civilians to escape through, but the walls were too thick and the surface too far. Plus, he felt ... uneasy about teleporting near the Dark Water. When he tried before, he barely was able to teleport himself. No way was he willing to risk it with others.

Eramar went to Victor’s side who was staring down at the floor in deep concentration. Before he could say anything, he noticed a final convoy of prisoners being led up from the catacombs. The poor souls looked like they had been through hell, which probably wasn’t too far off the mark considering who the Mages worshiped. Their clothes were tattered and worn. Each bore marks on their wrists from being shackled. They all seemed pale and half-starved, even in the waning light of these dank sewers. Worst of all, there were even children in their ranks. The poor kids clung to the adults who held them tightly. Some human children even clung to Demihuman adults and vice versa, which led Eramar to believe that some surrogate families had been formed in the midst of this tragedy. The people looked skittish, as if wondering if this was all an elaborate trick and expecting some kind of punishment from their Elemental saviors. Others drew close to the Elementals for support. Elementals from both Ministries were gracious, treating the liberated prisoners with gentleness and respect. It was encouraging to know that even people who spent as much time fighting as Elementals did could still find moments of humanity such as this one.

Sometimes, I forget why I started this life until moments like this come along, thought Eramar to himself. Saving one innocent is worth all the hardship in the world.

There seemed to be a Kappa with a red shell in the procession who looked at Eramar like he knew him. The Kappa, with blue scales, a scraggly white beard, and wearing the tattered remains of a business suit that was nearly torn to shreds, rushed up to Eramar as fast as his large bulk could take him. Eramar’s fighting instincts almost kicked in at the unexpected approach of the old turtle, but something about the expression on the being’s face gave Eramar pause.

“You’re Eramar, the Demon-Slayer! Isn’t that right?” asked the Kappa with a country drawl.

“Yes, that’s right,” responded a befuddled Eramar. There was something a tad familiar about the Demihuman. If only Eramar could put his finger on why.

“Kambrick,” said the humanoid Tortoise breathlessly. “Julius Kambrick. Ryan called me Mr. Kambrick. He used to work for me back in Fernady. I remember the day you came and helped the boy out with those Preservers. I was watching from a few alleys back.”

Now Eramar remembered. Kambrick was one of Ryan’s few associates when the boy was being surveyed as a possible initiate for Elemency. “Of course. Mr. Kambrick, sir. I’m glad to see you unharmed, but I thought the Mages only acquired their ... um...”

“I believe the word yer lookin’ fer is ‘sacrifices’. Best as I can figure, that’s about all we were to those animals. And I guess you probably thought they only nabbed people from District 9. But you’ll find people from all over Tarrus from every walk of life in here. Well, mostly the poor or middle-class folks like me. And all from different sectors around the planet. That way, no one notices the disappearances too much.”

Victor looked to Eramar curiously, but Eramar waved his friend away. This was the first civilian who seemed receptive enough to talk. The others were in too much shock. It was a good opportunity to find out some more details.

“If you don’t mind, Mr. Kambrick, could you tell me a little of your capture? Everyone here will be asked to testify when they recover, but since you seem a little more spry, I’d like to hear it in your own words instead of in a report. Please, it’s very important, sir.”

The Kappa opened his mouth to speak, but a slight whimper drew his attention downward. Eramar followed his gaze to see a little human girl with long blonde hair, probably no more than five or six, clutching at Kambrick’s pants. She was so small, Eramar never even noticed her beside Kambrick’s bulky frame. The little girl shied away from Eramar’s gaze, moving behind the Kappa’s leg as if afraid that someone might hit her.

Eramar felt his heart sink at the sight of the pathetic urchin. She was filthy, with dark splotches dotting her cheeks that might’ve been mud smudges or bruises (Eramar hoped it was simply the former). She wore the remains of a pink dress that might as well have been rags for all that remained intact.

How long could she have been down here to look like that?

“I’m ... I’m sorry, Mr. Kambrick. I didn’t know you had a-”

“She’s not mine, obviously. And she ain’t my adopted daughter neither,” said Kambrick sadly. “But maybe I’m the best she’s got at this point. A tragedy in it of itself. Her parents were one of them sacrifices a few days back. Her name’s Marinette. I’ve been lookin’ out for her. A lot of the folks here have been doing the same for the little ones who ain’t got no one no more.”

Eramar felt his admiration for the Kappa surge, and he gave the whole group a reassuring smile. “What you all have gone through is an injustice beyond description. To see such kindness in the midst of this torment makes me think that perhaps there is hope ... hope for everyone, for all peoples. Thank you all for your strength. My only regret is that we didn’t arrive sooner ... that we allowed this evil to fester beneath our arrogant noses. I hope one day you can forgive us ... but if not, I understand.”

Surprisingly, Eramar was greeted with quite a few wane smiles, many from the children.

Kambrick gave a warm chuckle. “Forgive you? Dag nab it, son! We should be singing your praises till the day the Caretaker returns! We just about gave up hope before you arrived. Thought we’d be picked off one by one by those psychos, or worse. A lot of folks here were used as guinea pigs for that ... that arcane magic of theirs. You are our hero, son. You and all these other Elemental fellers.”

“You’re too kind, Mr. Kambrick,” said Eramar quietly, finding it difficult to maintain a straight face as his voice nearly broke. “But the fact that this place even exists on Tarrus means that we haven’t been doing our job.”

The Kappa gave Eramar a kindly smile, patting his arm encouragingly. “You Elemental fellers don’t take compliments too well. You got that in common with that young’un, little Ryan. Always tried to pretend to be less enthused than he actually was when someone flattered him. How is that little scamp, anyway? I’ve got him to thank for nearly a year of peace and good business before these varmints picked me up.”

Eramar smiled. “If you know Ryan, then you know that he’s in good spirits with his usual shenanigans. It’s the rest of us at the Fire Ministry that I’m worried about.”

“Yup, that sounds about right. I’m still finding shards of broken glass from when that boy worked in my shop. The kid’s got a good heart, but he’s about as delicate as a bull in a China closet. Leastways while he’s with you Elementals, he’s learnin’ how to break things the right way instead of accidental like.”

Eramar gave Marinette another glance. She didn’t flinch away from his gaze as she looked up at him curiously from behind Kambrick’s leg.

“Mr. Kambrick,” he continued, reticent to end this moment of light-heartedness. “I could go on and on about the mischief Ryan has been up to, or about how proud I am of his accomplishments thus far. But right now-”

“I know, son. We got business to discuss.”

“Is it okay to talk about this with the little one?”

Kambrick smiled tenderly down at Marinette, hugging her to his leg. “She was there too, as far as I can tell. This one’s shell is tougher than mine.”

The girl frowned up at the Kappa. “But Grandaddy Turtle, I don’t have a shell like you, but I wish I did.”

Eramar felt relieved to hear the girl talk. It was a good sign that she might recover.

The Kappa gave a throaty laugh, hugging the little girl again. “Kids and their nicknames. That young’un, Ryan, used to call me something like that.”

Mr. Kambrick then drew in a sharp breath as his smile vanished. “I’m afraid there’s not much to tell you, son. I was minding my shop when they came for me in the night. They used some kind of magic or something to put me out, and then I woke up down there in the catacombs shackled to the wall. I’ve been here for a couple months as near as I can tell. As far as I figure, they like to keep their prisoners a few months before they sacrifice them to ... to those things.”

He gestured with his head towards a pool of Dark Water a few yards behind them. The little girl followed the turtle’s gaze and recoiled, suddenly running to Eramar and grabbing his armored shin guard. Eramar hesitantly knelt down and held the girl to his chest. She shivered like a leaf against his armor.

The Kappa knelt down with Eramar, placing an arm on the girl’s shoulder. “They paint some weird symbols on us and throw us in. I saw it happen a few times. They wanted us to see ... wanted us to know what was coming for us. The people that got thrown into those pools just dissolved into nothingness, but it don’t happen all too quickly. I’ll ... I’ll never forget the screams.”

“Mommy and daddy are still in there,” he heard the little girl whisper between sobs. “I can still hear them sometimes.”

Eramar held Marinette tighter, feeling a lump rise in his throat. As soon as this little girl was safely away, he swore he would find some way to make that High Mage pay ... a form of pain that not even that psychopath could withstand.

“I’m sorry to press you in this, but is there anything else you can tell me, Mr. Kambrick?”

The Kappa sighed sadly. “Not much else. They mostly just left us alone in the dark to talk and wonder what they wanted us for. Only gave us enough food and water to stay alive. We could never tell when they would come for us and march us up here. And when we were brought up here, we could never know which one of us they would choose. It seemed pretty much random to me. Although, they did have a habit of picking the ones with children first. And sometimes, it wasn’t the grownups they sacrificed. More than a few folks here started taking care of the kids after losing one of their own.”