Jewelry of the Apocalypse Book one: The Ruined City (18-21)

Chapter 18 [No party like a Wrathling party!]

When the trio emerged from the tunnel it was like they had entered a strange new world. Houses made from debris littered the landscape. Some of which reminded George of the villages that he would see in the old countryside. Ladders made from bone and metal towered above them led up to wires filled with lanterns that stretched across the whole village. He was surprised how advanced the structures were.

So much for just a bunch of dumb cultists... He thought, following Blaire and Rupert for a bit before running off on his own. Blaire sighed as they watched him run up to the nearest house, begrudgingly following him, while pulling out a couple of cloaks from their bag.

"I swear does this kid know even know the meaning of stealth?" They asked Rupert as he sighed as well taking one of the cloaks and draping it over himself, lifting the hood.

"I'm surprised that he even lasted out on his own." He answered as the two of them met up with George, who was currently knocking on the door as loudly as he possibly could.

"What in the name of Jorn are you doing?" Blaire asked trying to keep a hushed tone.

"Hey, if we need to talk with their leader, they why don't we just ask some of the residents. It's the quickest way." George responded as the door suddenly opened to reveal a small child with long dark yellowish hair.

He flashed his best non-threatening smile as he said: "Hello!" The child, who looked no older than 7 or 8, took one look at the three strangers at her door and promptly shut it in front of them.

Great...This idiot just cost us our entire mission. Blaire thought as they put one hand to their head.

George looked back at the two with a smirk on his face. “Cmon, it’ll be fine! Just watch..”

After a few moments later the door opened to reveal a larger man with a bushy crimson beard. From behind the small child peeked out saying: “Unkie it’s the people from my pictures!”

The man let out a small chuckle before opening the door more. “Well then Mimi, why don’t we show these nice people inside?”

The inside of the cabin was moderately furnished, with a few simple chairs, a table, and a fireplace. The man, whose name was Bine, showed George and the others around the house. Bine’s wife, Paneer, or as Mimi put it Pan-pan.

When the three of them got comfortable, Bine sat them down at the table. Meanwhile Mimi was scribbling on what looked like rudimentary paper with a strange looking pencil.

“So, what brings you folks to our here village?” Bine asked, a jovial grin hid itself behind the hair.

“We were sent here to speak with the leader of your community…” Blaire said, omitting the part where they were tasked with killing them.

While the rest were talking Mimi looked up at George and took his hand. “Follow me!” The two of them walked to a room off to the left of where the others were.

Inside pictures of George and the others lined the entire room. There were images of George eating the rat, the three of them falling into Big Mama… what alarmed him was how vivid the drawings were. Did a child really draw this? He asked himself as he picked up a piece of paper on the ground. It was a drawing of the three of them standing in front of the cabin’s door with George flashing a smile and Blaire and Rupert standing off to his side.

“Did you draw these?” He finally asked to which Mimi nodded wildly.

“Mhm! I draws them for a looong time! You wanna draw?” She asked as she handed George his own sheet and pencil.

“Well,” Bine said, stroking his beard. “You and your friends can try and catch him at the festival tomorrow. That’ll be your best bet.”

“And what’s this festival about?” Rupert asked, shifting in his seat.

“Oh! Why, we call it the Festival of Sainthood Restitution! It’s a celebration of gratitude towards our guardian deity and honors the acts of the chief Saint.”

Blaire put their hands together. Let’s see how much information we can get out of him while we’re here… it might prove useful when we try to get close to our target… They looked over at Rupert. “What else can you tell us about the Festival of Sainthood Restitution?” They asked.

“Well, what I can tell you is that our village is lucky enough to hold the Restitution ceremony.” Bine stroked his beard with delight, and a slight bit of smugness. “One lucky member of our community will be granted the pleasure of tending to one the many sacred offspring that our deity laid.”

“If you ask me, I think our dear Mimi is a shoe-in for that role..” Paneer said, sticking her head out from behind a door. After a moment she came out fully holding an axe over her shoulder. “Isn’t she just too precious?” She said with a smile.

“Have you folks eaten yet? We’ve got plenty of room here after all.”

Blaire and Rupert were almost thrown off by how kind these people were. Certainly, they almost didn’t fit the role of fanatical cult members at all. Almost, as Bine smiled at them from across the table, behind him sat a fairly large statue of the grotesque creature that called the stone wasteland at the surface home. The beady holes that it calls eyes stared back at Blaire. No matter how kind these people were, the fact didn’t change that they were part of that horrific cult. They shook their heads and Bine got up from the table. “Well then I’ll get started on dinner.”

As Paneer called for dinner, Mimi shot up from the floor, jumping up and down. “Is dinner! Is dinnertime!” She said with a brilliant smile stretching from ear to ear. George looked over at the child’s most recent drawing before he was dragged away slowly by the small child, who was insistent that he follow. “Come onnnnn!” She whined, pulling at his tattered sleeve.

With only a glimpse, all he could tell was that there was a heart with a ring on what looked like some blobs. He couldn’t be sure… huh odd… he thought as he begrudgingly followed Mimi to the table where the others were seated.

George waived at the other two as he sat next to Blaire, Mimi climbing into the seat next to him. Man this takes me back…he thought. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten at a dinner table like this before. It felt warm, that much was for sure.

After the meal, the three were shown where they would be sleeping for the night. The couple asked if they could fetch them any cots but as George went to ask Blaire said: “No, it’s fine, we’re used to sleeping without them..”

George mumbled underneath his breath. “Well I would have appreciated one…”

As Mimi told them goodnight, Bine shut the door leaving the trio alone in the room. From the window, the lanterns light up the “sky” like stars. George turned to Blaire and said. “See? I told you it would work out…”

“Well don’t count your hands before they’ve been caught.. we still need to eliminate our target.” Blaire answered shifting over to their side.

“Cool….any ideas?” George asked, clearly having no intention to sleep.

Rupert was the one to answer this time. “Look George, for now just sleep and we’ll discuss this in the morning. Alright?” He curled up into a half circle and draped the cloak over his body.

“Hmph…fine..I’ll go to sleep..” George grumbled, upset by their lack of action.

The next day George awoke to the sound of loud banging. Groggily he stood up from the hardwood floor with a hand on his back as he straightened himself..He opened the window at the back wall of the room and the muffled sound of music blew him off of his feet. With a haunting chant accompanying the music he stared at the parade of people dressed in odd looking robes. Some were carrying small statues, others were holding strange looking instruments. They resembled the ones he’d known but only partly, there were too many strings on some of them, and the ones that looked like horns had multiple shoots. As the crowd passed by the window, buff figures were holding up a carriage. Huh, those look like the ones from Historical dramas. He thought, then he caught a glimpse of who was sitting in the chair. It was Mimi.

What’s she doing there? He asked himself unsure of what was even happening. When the two locked eyes, Mimi waved at George with a smile. He was hesitant but he waved back a wave of unease blanketing over him. Why does it feel like she’s saying goodbye forever? He said quietly to himself as he opened the door.

The crowd didn’t pay any attention to George as he pushed past them. It was as if he was too below them for even slight recognition. Soon enough among the crowd he found Blaire and Rupert who were following the hoard wearing the robes they came in. “Hey!” He said, his voice barely enough to get over the shriek of the instruments. “What the hell happened?”

“See, I knew we should’ve just woken him up..” Rupert said as he looked behind him at the confused George. “Look, we were fine without him before and we can handle things without him now. Just stop taking pity on him and let's finish this!” Rupert continued as Blaire looked back at George.

Blaire turned back as the crowd neared the center of the village. “Oh please, when have I ever taken pity on anyone before? I’m simply making an investment in potential.” Rupert rolled his eyes at that comment.

“You can make all kinds of ‘investments’ that you want, but until this punk proves himself, I won’t consider him part of this group.” Rupert huffed as the group came to a stop.

Suddenly the people around them turned to face the trio, their eyes were clouded with an inky redness that resembled wax. They seemed soulless and devoid of individuality.

Then a voice spoke from the stage in front of them. “Well, well, well, it seems that we have some visitors. You there! State your reasons for barging in on our most holy of celebrations?” The tall cloaked man bellowed, pointing his long ornate looking staff at the three of them. Bonzai, who hid in George’s satchel, watched as the strange people crowded around George and the others and lifted them up, carrying them over to the stage.

The three of them struggled to break free of the many hands pushing them to their leader.

“Hmph your baubles have no value in this kingdom of holiness. Now, you who are blind to the truth, speak and let your worthless voice fall on the deaf.” George scowled at the man, refusing to speak. He knew of only two things that would shut him up. Being told to speak and having no mouth. And he still had his mouth.

Rupert grumbled as the man grew impatient with their silence. Who were they to barge into his ceremony? They couldn’t possibly fathom the majesty that was his power.

With a huff, the man waved his staff in the air and turned to face the crowd. “Today! We shall witness the rebirth of the next grand chancellor. Their light will be the light of our guardian! Bask in the radiance that is the child of Wrath!” He stepped aside revealing Mimi sitting in an ornate chair, with her hands and feet bound. Another burly cult member carrying a box kneels before the man, opening it.

It wasn’t as nearly a surprise as it would have been considering their entire practice but as George looked on in rage as the man stepped towards Mimi, trying to escape her bonds. “No! Gross bug! I hate it!” She cried as the man drew closer, the maggot wriggling in his grasp.

As the maggot hovered over her open mouth, George felt that indescribable rage bubbling within his chest as his nail sharpened cutting the feeble rope that bound him. “You motherfucker…” He said as he lunged at the priest, jaws open wide.

The man staggered backwards dropping the maggot into George’s mouth, his claws glinting in the lantern light.

“George! Goddamnit!” Blaire cried as he fell to the ground.

The man huffed as he stood, clearly shaken. “T-that serves you right for daring to partake in our holy guardian, you Cretan.” He said as he kicked George’s body.

“Noo Gerge!” Mimi said, wailing.

The man turned back to the crowd after properly disgracing the nonbeliever. “This is the divine punishment of the great Queen of Wrath! All who stand in the way of her spread will be vanquished. Now watch as the heathen is devoured and becomes the soil for which our guardian will blossom from.”

While the preacher spun his long winded monologue, Bonzai crept out of the bag. Skittering towards Blaire and Rupert. Blaire knelt down to his level, a kind smile between their tusks. “Hey Bonzai….can you get me the gun? The gun it’s in my bag.”

Bonzai caught notice of Blaire calling him and skittered down to the clump of bags, opening up George’s bag and trotting back holding a rat in its jaws, the creature wriggling inside.

“No Bonzai, the gun.. the metal thing?” They asked their eyes darting over to the preacher and back to the pet.

Bonzai trotted off happily to retrieve the metal item that was requested.

If their hands weren’t tired then Blaire would have them flat on their forehead as Bonzai came back, not with the gun but with the transmission disc that they were given. “No Bonzai, grab the long silver metal thing.”

Bonzai tilted his head to the side as he promptly trotted away for the third time. At last Bonzai returned with their trusty silver pistol. On the end of which was a small serrated blade to use in melee combat.

The blade made quick work of the rope, the marks left by the rope stinging their wrists. As Blaire began to check their gun, Rupert pulled his wrists in separate ways, breaking the rope. “Well it seems like we’ll have to go with plan A anyway…” They said as the rat from earlier skittered across the stage bumping into Goerge’s body, which jerked to life, causing the rat to move the other way.

Just as the Priest turned around to see the glorious sight of the brand new larger child of Wrath, he was taken aback when instead he saw George standing before him, his right hand fashioned in the shape of a rather large version of the Maggot’s mouth. Smoke dripped from the corner of his mouth as he stumbled towards the Priest.

The only thing going through the priest’s mind was fear. He stumbled over to the edge of the stage as Both of George’s mouths opened and let out a resounding roar.

Blaire kept a steady hand as they followed the head of the priest.

“Oh ye who shall devour the heavens, have mercy on me!” The Priest cried out as George lunged forward.

With his monstrous hand, George grabbed hold of the priest’s arm as Blaire’s pistol resounded across the village. Within seconds the screaming head of the priest was silenced for good. As the body fell in a slump on the stage the crowd turned their gaze to the assailants.

George heaved a heavy sigh as he grabbed the rat from off of the ground, and with his monstrous hand swallowed it whole. He felt no pain as it twitched, hungry. He walked towards the terrified Mimi behind him and lifted his head, revealing the same smile he gave her when they first met.

He used one of the teeth of the maggot to cut her bands. She fell into his arms, crying. George was careful enough not to use his right hand when hugging her.

“Hey, Mimi, it’s okay…I’ve got you.” He said softly as he rested his left arm underneath Mimi, cradling her. She just nodded as she sniffled against his chest.

He looked up at the rest of the cult members and then over at Blaire and Rupert. The three made eye contact and George looked back at the crowd.

“You all disgust me! Trying to sacrifice a child?! How dare you!” He shouted, while Mimi covered her ears, still afraid.

The crowd did not answer as they stared blankly until a voice from the back spoke up. “You filthy heathen! How dare you kill the Grand Priest Fanry!”

George looked on as the crowd began to get more aggressive, starting to make their way to the stage.

In preparation of this event Rupert grabbed all of their bags and ran off the stage, Blaire following after. Bonzai hopped inside of George’s bag, with the disk still in his mouth, the blue light flickering as they ran.

“Hold on tight, okay?” He said to Mimi, trying to soothe her.

George followed soon after as Mimi clutched tightly to his shirt.

The crowd chased after them like a bull with mad cow disease. Arms stretched out, grasping at the wisps of George’s hoodie like a tsunami of bodies. He didn’t bother to look back at the massive hoard behind him as he jumped towards the mound of flesh between Blaire and Rupert, his new hand spinning violently. He wasn’t sure if this would work but he had to try.

Chapter 18 [No party like a Wrathling party!] end.

Chapter 19 [Follow the Purple Stone Path]

The trip to the surface was about as gross as tunneling through layers of flesh sounded. Bits of torn flesh scarred from the rapid succession of injuries led to the trio’s escape.

As flesh turned to soil and then to rock, George gritted his teeth as the ground split above them revealing the brilliant night sky overhead. With the long since extinction of light pollution, the cosmos were allowed to share the incandescent beauty of galaxies long forgotten to the weary travelers.

George sat on a nearby cluster of what used to be half of a building and with the last of his adrenaline pumping through him he looked down at Mimi and smiled. “It’s alright,” he said softly, properly cradling her. “It’s over…” As Blaire and Rupert emerged from the hole, they found the pair of them huddled next to each other fast asleep.

With the danger long past, Blaire reached inside of their bag, pulling the silver disk from inside. Around the edge of the disk were a set of glyph-like markings that glowed a light blue as they placed a thumb towards the center. “This is the Rabid Ranger, the fern has bloomed. I repeat, the fern has bloomed.” Once Blaire was done with the message, the glyphs went dark. They turned the outer edge of the disk to the left, revealing a new set of glyphs from which a golden glow now emanated.

“This is the Rabid Ranger, now requesting pickup from the ruined city. The mission was successful.” A moment passes before the disk crackles to life.

“Excellent work, I’ll have an escort send you to the palace at once. All hail the king.” The voice was younger in tone, perhaps it was a junior member of the castle guard. All Blaire said in return was: “All hail the king.” Before the glyphs went dark.

“How long do you think until they get here?” Rupert asked, setting down the other bags.

“Hmm, it might take them about a couple days to get here. Maybe tomorrow if we’re lucky.” Blaire smirked as the two of them sat on a pile of rubble next to George and Mimi.

“I doubt the people over at the Reserve would send anyone. Wouldn’t want the king to get suspicious. I mean it was a pain in the ass to try and get this kind of reputation on our own. Fucker’s too careful.” Rupert pulled back part of his mane.

“Yeah well, it took us this long to get where we are. It’s not like we can back out now.” Blaire reached into their bag, pulling out a dagger. The blade was curved in both directions, resembling that of a snake. All the pair could do was go over their mission. Their real mission.

~

In the bustling square of the capital city of Bazelong, Shops littered the walkways, their colorful signs glittering in the sun. A shop clerk waved at the several small children as they raced on the stone pathway, the vibrant purple hue almost looking like it came from a dream. In the middle of the square sat a wonderous fountain with the visage of a Dragon-like lion clad in regal attire, one of their claws distinctly sharper than the rest. Underneath the statue was the inscription: IN MEMORY OF OUR VALIANT LEADER BASIL CABINRUZ. Next to the fountain laid a small wooden sign that read in bright red lettering: ONE NIGHT ONLY. The fantastical Night Circus featuring the mystifying Aurobora. On the right of the sign stood a young looking soldier, saluting. A look of admiration in their coal eyes. The greenish silver of his armor sparkled as they stood at attention, ear as sharp as spear heads.

From behind a shadow loomed over the stalwart young soldier. At first it wasn't a problem perhaps it was just a civilian admiring the statue. It was when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He felt his spine stiffen as the dark spindly fingers wrapped around his shoulder. He could practically feel the eyes staring at him, almost as if glaring holes into his very head.

Greymann tried to close his eyes but they wouldn’t listen. He stared in abject horror as the face of the stranger came into view, the brilliant blue hue of their hair shining in the sun. “Hello~” the stranger slithered, smiling with a grin too large for their face.

In the castle, knights stood guard at the front gate the peacefulness of the capital dulling their senses. While both carried spears, the one to the right of the large wooden door, a frog-like soldier, their wide mouth opening in a yawn. The other knight, a goat like soldier, much taller than their frog counterpart shook his head in an attempt to keep himself awake. The taller knight was the first one to notice Greymann bounding towards the front gate. Frantically he tapped the frog's shoulder, jostling him awake. "Hey! Hey! Wake up, the kid's coming back."

"Huh, already?" The frog asked, squinting as the greenish blob quickly came into view. The dust spraying in a cloud as his feet slapped against the ground.

When he arrived at the gate, the two guards looked at him in confusion. “You okay?” The goat one asked. “You look like you’ve just seen that mother of all terrors..” the frog added.

“Are you sure Grody? Looks like he’s been scared half to death to me.” The goat responded clearly disregarding the actual issue.

“Look Breygar, that’s not the point. Obviously he’s got something to say to us. Go on, out with it kid!”

As the two of them stopped speaking, Greymann simply said eight words. “I need to speak with his majesty.” The two guards looked at each other and then back at the junior knight before shrugging.

“Alright…” Breygar said pulling one of the two levers on the side of the door. Grody on the other hand had a bit more trouble, his slimy fingers not gripping the lever properly. “I’ve almost….got…it!” He croaked. From behind, Greymann he felt the same dominating as before. A chill ran down his spine as he grabbed the lever for him, Grody nodding his head in recognition. “Thanks lad.”

As the two levers clicked into place, the large wooden door between them began to open, allowing the knight entry into the castle.

The young knight wasted no time talking to any of the other occupants as he bursted into the crown chamber the ornate pattern on the door resembling thorn-riddled vines reaching downward.

The king did not look up completely from his work as the doors slammed against the stone walls. Only giving Greymann a passing glance before returning to his paperwork. It was one thing to do paperwork when he was a merchant but now as this kingdom’s ruler, he swore that his workload had doubled. Of course, that is to be expected after killing off many of the nobles from the previous era.

“What is it?” Cabinruz huffed as the young man closed the doors behind him.

“Uhm your majesty..”Greymann took a deep breath, collecting himself before he announced. “There is someone who wishes to speak with you.”

“Oh?” The king replied, curious as the only people were himself and the knight. Amused, he set aside his quil and looked up properly. “And who is it that wishes to speak with me?” He asked.

“I don't know their name but they claim to be an old friend of yours….” Greymann said.

Cabinruz put one claw to his chin. An old friend? He thought. Then he remembered what Lieutenant Darwyn had mentioned several days ago.

“You see sir, it appears that the circus will be coming to the capitol, and I generally believe that it would be wise to visit.” Darwyn said.

Cabinruz waived the notion away as he went back to his work.

Back in the present, Cabinruz put two claws to his temple while he sighed. Of course it would be him.... he thought as the shadow behind the young knight grew considerably. He sighed before dismissing them.

Greymann gave the king a courteous bow before leaving. However, his shadow remained.

It twisted and stretched to impossible lengths until it crept towards Cabinruz. As the shadow became more distinct, long spindly fingers tapped across the stone wall. A cheerfully grim laugh trickled from the shadow. Cabinruz rolled his eyes at the display.

“Must you always make things a spectacle?” He asked the man fully emerging from the shadow behind Cabinruz. His chuckle persisted as his gloved hands laid on the king’s shoulders.

“Now now, dear Basil~ why I see you’re as boring as ever…” The man launched off of Basil’s shoulders and flipped into a somersault before landing in front of the desk.

“I told you not to call me that, Aurobora.” Basil scowled at the gaudy clown before him. He didn’t care that he was higher in seniority, Cabinruz still dispised it that someone so young could be so informal towards him.

“Oh Basil~ you look so adorable when you scowl… just makes me want to do something exciting..” Cabinruz shuddered when the clown uttered the word exciting.

“Master is pleased with your work. I personally thought that it could be a bit more interesting but that’s just an old clown’s opinion.” Aurobora grinned as Cabinruz nodded.

“Yes, yes those two mercenaries are quite remarkable, aren’t they?” Upon mention of the mercenaries being a group of two, Aurobora’s grin widened.

“Oh ho ho~ well then your highness I believe there be an interesting surprise for you very soon~” From the way his mouth curled to the unusual length of his teeth, there was always something that disturbed Cabinruz about Aurobora’s smile.

“Oh by the way~ have you ever thought about getting an assistant, a pupil perhaps. Who knows….it’s always good to have a spare after the first clown dies. Hehehe~” Before Cabinruz could answer, the mad jester disappeared in a cloud of smoke that carried itself out of the room, leaving Cabinruz in a coughing fit.

Outside on the surrounding road beneath the balcony a gilded carriage towed by a three-headed horse trotted down the purple stone path to the front gate.

~

Several days ago-

George and Mimi were playing with Bonzai amidst the rubble of the city, while Blaire and Rupert were keeping watch over their camp. With the injury that Big Mama had taken from their escape, the loud rumbles that once made their home in the city, now a resounding silence blanketed the area. Only to be momentarily broken by the sound of laughter and playing.

However their playing was interrupted by the braying of something that George had long since wished to hear. A horse. With his eyes closed, George approached the animal until it two other heads leaned into view. When George opened his eyes he was almost taken aback for a moment.

“What?” Blaire said walking to the side of the carriage. “Have you never seen a trorse before?”

“Well… I mean, yes but no….I’ve seen one but it only had one head..” George kept his gaze on the grip of heads all whinnying, neighing, and braying respectively. The middle head seemed to enjoy George, sniffing at his clothes all over with happy snorts. Blaire turned to George, a confused look on their face.

"Pfftt, a one-headed trorse? Please that's only been talked about in stories." They laughed at the absurdity.

The other heads seemed disinterested to say the least. The driver of the carriage stepped down from their seat, their horns looping around a silver chained necklace. As the group was focused on the wonder of George knowing a one-headed Trorse, the side door of the carriage opened to reveal a frowning Beagle-headed man. While he busied himself dusting off his clothing, Mimi went up to the man, smiling. "Wow-Wow!" Her small finger pointing at the Lieutenant.

He scoffed, pushing the small child away, before he cleared his throat to get the attention of the Mercenaries he was tasked with retrieving. "Ahem....Are you the Monster of the Farlands and the Rabid Ranger?" He spoke in a slightly forced cheerful tone. At the mention of their names Rupert and Blaire turned around, with Blaire answering. "Yes that is indeed us."

"Good." Said Darwyn as he gestured the group into the carriage. As the two of them stepped inside, the carriage shook as Rupert sat. However as George and Mimi tried to follow after them Darwyn put out a hand to stop them. "And who exactly are you?" He questioned.

"Oi, they're with us Big Ears." Rupert growled, his head poking out of the red curtain of the window.

Darwyn gave the two of them a quick look over before removing his hand from the entrance. "hmph fine..."

As the dull grey and ashen sky turned to a brilliant blue, Mimi stared in wonder at the surrounding world as the carriage bumped down the dirt road. Soon the dirt was replaced with a glittering purple stone once the group had made it to the Capital. The city itself looked like one of the old storybooks George read as a kid. Quaint storefronts lining the sides of the street. All sorts of people roaming the square. People in dull green armor patrolled the streets, some were mingling with the crowd others were just wandering around.

When the carriage went past the large statue, Blaire coughed loudly but the sound that came after it sounded like they were saying "Usurper.." but George wasn't sure. Mimi squirmed in George's lap, trying to find a comfortable spot. He just looked down at her, smiling. It was hard for him to let go of the child. She almost felt like a baby sister to him, so all he did was rake his fingers through her matted hair.

Rupert just couldn't wait to get out of the carriage as it arrived at the front gate of the castle. The small space caused his shoulders to scrunch, a sharp pain stretching throughout his arms. The carriage heaved a heavy sigh of relief as Rupert exited the vehicle. Consequently, the Lieutenant was next to exit, the whole being friendly bit a strain on his nerves. Especially after being bombarded by the small child asking him questions. Following Darwyn was Blaire and finally George with Mimi in his arms, who was holding Bonzai.

From behind the large wooden doors the tall visage of King Cabinruz could be seen. While the statue did exaggerate some aspects such as the sharpness of his chin and the broadness of his shoulders, everything else seemed like it was picture perfect. The Lieutenant stared as the king approached the group with a wide smile.

"Ah Greetings! Welcome to Caber the Capitol of my fair kingdom. I am its ruler, King Cabinruz."

The king went to shake the hands of both Rupert and Blaire while stepping past George and Mimi.

“I must congratulate you on your completion of the mission. I knew I could count on the two of you.”

Rupert huffed. “Yeah well, I’m sure we could’ve done just as fine if he didn’t come along.” His gaze was towards George, who looked a bit hurt.

“Well without him, we wouldn’t have found Big Mama. Besides, it wasn’t you who made contact with the villagers.” Blaire countered.

Cabinruz was intrigued. He had only heard of the accomplishments of the mercenaries before him.

The man looked quite odd, dressed in strange clothing that were in tatters. Surely he must just be a guide. He thought as he went to shake his hand.

“What is your name young man? Are you a part of their party?” He asked in earnest.

George thought for a bit, trying to think of a good name. Then he remembered what that priest had called him. “I’m known as the Devourer of the heavens. But my friends call me George.” Rupert’s eyes rolled at the sight of George giving himself a nickname. Admittedly it was a cool name, but he just didn’t want to admit it out loud.

“Well then sir devourer, I thank you for assisting with the completion of the mission." Cabinruz gave him a fake smile as he reached out his hand. George stared at the claw extended towards me and then down at Mimi, who was sitting in George's arms.

And while it seemed like a nice gesture, George couldn't really feel any real sentiment from the king as he extended his hand. "It seems like you don't believe me." George said, still holding Mimi.

The king looked surprised at his response. "Why whatever do you mean?" He asked somewhat taken aback that George hadn't immediately shaken his hand.

"What I mean is that you think that is just some stupid guide or something. that is what you were thinking, isn't it?" George was stone-faced as the Lieutenant began to approach the two before Rupert held him back.

George looked over at a training dummy that was stationed at the far end of the courtyard. He walked over to Blaire and Rupert and placed Mimi in Blaire's arms. The child reached out to George as he walked over to the dummy, setting his bag down along the way.

What is he doing? Blaire thought as George stood before the training dummy.

With his hands to the side, George opened his fingers wide and in seconds large claws sprung out of his fingertips. George barely flinched as he raised his right hand.

The king watched with baited breath as George swung down at the dummy, using his whole body in his swing. For a split second Cabinruz could see the faint glitter of something golden from underneath the boy's shirt.

His eyes went wide at the display of power. He felt a rush of excitement that hadn't been matched by any of the years he had spent as king. Cabinruz was besides himself, then he was reminded of what AuroBora had said. So this is what you had meant that. You sly son of a bitch...Yes that's it. I'll make this man into my student, a pupil! He thought. "Oh my...." He said to himself before rushing t0 the young man.

"Oh Sir Devourer, I beg of you, become my student!"

Chapter 19 [Follow the Purple Stone Path] end.

Chapter 20 [King in Fool's robes]

George stared blankly at the king, confused by what he had just been asked. Did he mean like an apprentice? a pupil? Was he going to teach him how to use his power?

Cabinruz stood before the skilled young man, his hand outstretched towards him. It had been so long since he had seen such potential in someone who looked so young. What was left of the dummy settled into the pile of its own stuffing until a guard picked up the pieces while another carried in a replacement.

Blaire and Rupert looked in astonishment at the sudden change in demeanor that the king displayed. Darwyn stepped between the two of them raising his snout toe the sky. "Sire! I must ask that you reconsider. how you can see any potential in this miserable miscreant is beyond me. This is the royal palace, not some dirty stable house where just anyone and their gods can wander inside. Those mercenaries have most likely never even heard of a shower!"

Just as quickly as his smile appear so too did it disappear. He leaned in close to Darwyn, grabbing him by the collar of his uniform. "What have I told you about questioning my decisions?" The two of them stood there locked in that tense exchange before Cabinruz threw him off to the side, huffing.

George excitedly shook the king’s hand, the cold silver of the ring rubbing against his hand.

"Wonderful, quite wonderful indeed. I'll have some of the servants prepare a room for you all." Cabinruz, now jovial, grinned with his whole fanged smile on display.

"Wait, we'll be staying here?" George asked.

"Well why wouldn't a master want their apprentice to be close by?" the king asked.

This is amazing! With this we have an in with the king that would've taken years to get! Blaire thought. They locked eyes with Rupert who gave a huff. All this huff about a kid who's barely known what the hell is going on in this world.

Mimi let out a small gasp as George walked back towards the group. "Geowge, Geowge!" She raised her arms towards him as George picked her up, smiling.

He chuckled as the king led the group inside the castle, the wooden door closing behind them.

When they had gotten settled into their rooms, George was pulled aside by the king.

“Listen well, I will meet you at the eastern balcony at 8 sharp on the marrow. Sleep well, and be ready for I don’t intend to go easy on you…” He gave a mighty grin as he patted George on the shoulder and left.

“8 sharp, got it.” George said to himself as he watched the sun dip in the crimson sky. The view from his window was drastically different from the one in he had grown accustomed to in Argrin.

That night the four of them enjoyed a feast of a meal. It was more than he had seen in the last three weeks. When he went back to his room, he didn't even remember going to sleep.

When the sun came up in the sky again, George found himself laying on the soft bed given to him by his teacher. A sharp rapping came from the door to his left. "Mister Devourer, sir, you are late for your training with his highness." It was a soft, regal voice coming from the door. It was strange. George thought. that when he went to smell who was on the other side, he couldn't detect anything.

When opened the door, he found the source of the noise an elderly looking man with the head of a rabbit in a classic butler's uniform. However his demeanor was that of a great Grizzly bear. "Oh pardon me, I'll just get you changed and we'll see his highness."

In seconds, George was stripped of his ragged clothes. they were thrown to a pile onto the bed. "Hey, wait. NO you're not taking away my clothes. At least not the hoodie."

"Pray tell, Master Devourer, what is this 'hoodie' you speak of?" The butler spoke while ruffling through the closet looking for appropriate clothing.

"Its the purple piece of clothing." George said plainly.

"Ah I see, I'll make sure not to throw that out sir..." The butler said calmly as he pulled out a strange set of clothes from the closet. "Now hold still sir."

George didn't fight the butler as he dressed him. The cloth was different than he was used to. It didn't help that he would never see the rest of his clothes again. He thought at least.

When they were done George looked down at his new clothes, the greenish-silver of the tunic contrasted with the bright purple of the hoodie that was draped overtop his clothing. "One last thing sir." the butler said as he untucked the necklace from underneath the tunic, laying it over top and underneath the hood.

It didn't take him long to find the right balcony, the landscape of the city stretching out underneath the ledge. George took a small look over the edge, noting on how high up they were from the city square below.

"That's not a problem, now is it?" Cabinruz asked, his regal wear nowhere to be seen. His burly scaly arms were laid bare as his mane flowed in the small breeze.

George shook his head as he walked away from the edge.

"Now, I want you to come at me with all you've got. Exert your will, don't let anything cloud your vision except the enemy in front of you." He said widening his stance as George ran towards him.

He wasn't able to get close to the king before he felt his feet leaving the ground.

For the next three months, George would endure the same beating. Time after time, he would get just a bit faster, but every time, so did Cabinruz. Each day he returned to his room where the butler, Shamus, would nurse his wounds. Only to receive them the next day. And each day, when he fell, the king would say the same thing. "You mustn't let your gift exert its will onto you. Grab it by the reigns and make it yours!" or some other variant. He barely saw the rest of the group during his training, but he when he would Mimi always seemed bigger.

It wasn't until the changing of the seasons came, that he didn't wake up to the same rapping upon his door. However, Shamus was waiting outside for him. He quickly got dressed and opened up the door.

"Shamus? What's going on, Is there no training today?" George asked.

"No sir, it seems as though you have been freed for the day. His Majesty has some important matters to attend to. but he did leave a message for you. 'go out and enjoy the wonders of my fair city." Shamus stood tall as George's smile widened.

"Then I'm off!" He shouted as he tried to push past the butler before he could though he felt his pockets fill with a heavy sack. Shamus walked out of the way as George grabbed his satchel, stuffing it with the coins that he had filled his pockets with.

George didn't mind that it was the first time venturing into the city for the first time since he had first arrived to the capitol. His

Oh eyes were filled with wonder as he walked the streets of the square. The first shop he walked into was manned by an elderly looking woman, her face was wooly with a nose similar to Blaire's. Her grey hair wandered off in many directions.

The other patrons were calm as the old lady was wiping down her counter. She looked up with her usual gentle demeanor until her eyes fell upon George’s necklace.

In seconds her smiled faded as she began shooing people out of the store. “Go on! Now git! We’re closed now! All yous out!” Her thick accent resounded off of the various glass bottles stationed on the shelves.

Once the whole store was emptied except for the two of them, she scuttled from behind the counter. However what could have been millions of legs appeared underneath the worn cloth. She eyed him up and down before she stopped in front of him.

“What the Braygen do ya think you’re doing here? Have ya lost yer mind or is there a brettwer bug between yer ears?” She looked obviously annoyed and frustrated at George’s presence. As he tried to leave, she scuttled in front of him blocking the door.

“Oh no, ya can’t just go an’ leave once I’ve found ya! There’s something I wanna talk about to ya.”

“Look lady,” George started.

“Gretthylde. Names Joan Gretthylde. An’ yer George, right?” She interrupted as she glared at him.

“Y-yes…how did you know?” He asked surprised that he didn’t need to introduce himself. She just glared at him as he continued speaking.

“Well anyway Joan, what’s got you so sour? And what do you need to talk to me about?”

“What’s got me sour is that you’ve been wearing that thing round yer neck without any protection with ya. An’ we’ll get teh why I need yeh here.” She began scuttling back over to the counter. "Ya see, that thing around yer neck is a symbol that yer a descendant of the Queen of Fire."

George looked down at his necklace and then back at Joan.

"What does my necklace have to do with some Queen of Fire?" He asked, still confused.

"Ye don't know the Queen of Fire? They say that because her hair shined like the embers of a Phoenix, but when she crumbled into the ash, she didn't rise. And that necklace is the second half of the pair that she owned. Said she gave one to her descendant." Joan said in a solemn tone. " I used to be her servant, ya know. None of these new bloods remember the revolution and how bloody that bastard's campaign was. Now we have to live underneath the rule of that Barbarian." She huffed as she bent down putting a small box on the counter and opening it. George saw another image of the fiery haired woman. This time there was a soft look to her as he stared up at her, he felt that he knew her almost.

As she closed the lid he raised a small bronze key with a G on the end tied to a leather rope. "I can't say too much right now but take this. You'll be needing it for when you venture down into the Castle's deepest depths."

"Wait why am I doing that." He asked the key feeling cold in his hands as she handed it to him. "Well yous gots tons of questions now, don't you?" She asked in return. "This'll give ye answers... now go! Those bastards at the castle are probably looking for ya!" Joan said as George stuffed the key inside his satchel once he was promptly thrown out of the shop.

George looked around the abandoned city square as he walked back to the castle. "What the hell was that all about?'' He asked himself. "And how the hell did that crazy woman know who I was?" his lone footsteps echoed on the empty stone.

He held the heart 0f evolution, staring at it in silent contemplation. It felt like there were all of these puzzle pieces scattered around him and some of feel like they go together but there was just something missing.

As George's mind wandered, he found himself at the entrance to the castle. The two guards standing beside each half of the door, sleepily greeted him.

"Huh, what?" he said, his tongue falling out the side of his mouth. "Oh yeah..." The two already drifting off to sleep guards grabbed their respective levers and opened the large door.

The inside of the castle was lit by the many candles and torches set up on the walls and hanging from the ceiling. George thought about just going back to his room and going to sleep but there was something that crazy lady at the shop had said that just itched at the back of his mind.

He passed by the usual rooms watching servants come in and out carrying all sorts of supplies. Some carried stacks of papers while others carried worn weapons. he barely payed any mind to it as he finally made the choice to continue from his room and 'wander' into the deeper parts of the castle.

As George continued to walk further and further into he castle, he found it increasingly odd that nobody had stopped him yet. The further he went the darker and more devoid of staff the halls became. Was it really worth it? Did he truly find it necessary to go out of his way to find a simple box in the bottom of this castle? He looked back to the dwindling light behind him as he kept moving forward. Soon he was walking along the right side of the pitch black hall. The hall seemed to expand infinitely into the darkness.

He wandered in that dark corridor for what felt like hours until his hand scraped against cold metal instead of the familiar mossy stone. He took a deep breath as he fumbled around for the handle and opened the door.

Inside the room was a small wooden desk with a lamp, a stack of matches, and a moderately sized red chest in the middle surrounded by empty bookshelves. George closed the door behind him and picked up the box of matches, striking on and lighting the lamp. In moments the room erupted with light as the fire crackled to life. After stumbling back a bit and letting his eyes adjust to the sudden change, George sat at the desk.

The first thing he examined was the box in the middle of the desk, its ornate keyhole was shaped strangely, unlike any common lock. "What the hell king of key goes here?" He asked himself as he then remembered the bronze key he was given. He tried to fit the normal looking key end into the lock to no avail. it was only when George inserted the G into the lock did the key slide inside, the lock clicking open.

George watched as the box slowly opened before him revealing its hidden contents. With baited breath he looked inside the chest only to be met with what looked like a series of letters and a green leatherbound journal.

"What? that's it?" George said taking out both the letters and the journal. he lifted the box and tipped it upside down, shaking it trying to shake any secret contents out. But there weren't any. With a huff, George set the box down onto the floor of the room.

"Well, lets at least see what these are for.." he said picking up the first of the two letters, the red wax crumbling underneath his nail. Opening the letter, George only saw an incomprehensible mad dash of gibberish that was unlike anything he'd ever read. "I- I can't read this......" He said as the first letter was set aside and went to open the second one. However as the wax crumbled he heard footsteps out beyond the room. In a mad dash, George collected the contents of the box, shoved them along with the key into his satchel and blew out the lamp, draping him in darkness.

With as much stealth as he could muster, he snuck out of the room and hid in the darkness of the corridor. On the other end was the familiar visage of the old Shamus, elegantly holding a torch in his right hand. George then crawled out of the darkness, a sheepish grin on his face as he apologized to the butler. "Ah sorry Shamus, I must've missed my room..." He rubbed the back of his head in an attempt to sell his excuse.

From underneath the large unibrow that dominated his face a singular eye appeared in a questioning manner before being covered once again. "Well then Master Devourer, if you'll follow me, I shall lead you back to your room."

Thankfully Shamus didn't ask George what he was doing in the castles depths but neither did he speak to him. The whole trip was covered in a thick suffocating silence between the two. When they arrived back to his room, Shamus simply gave his normal farewell: "Goodnight sir, may you sleep well."

When the butler left, George slumped onto the floor, letting out all the breath he had kept inside him. Once he stood back up, he placed his satchel on the back of the wooden chair in front of his personal desk.

Just like before, he sat down at the desk and used one of his nails to fully open the second letter. This time as he opened it a small monocle fell out before the contents of the letter did. When George opened the second letter, he was surprised to see such familiar writing. Then it dawned on him. It was his mother's handwriting. Not just that but he was able to read what was written too!

With wide eyes he read the letter to himself.

[Dear George,

I don’t know when you’ll receive this letter but hopefully I’ll be the one to give it to you. You must know that the world you’ll wake up to is much different than the one you and I left. Along the way you may meet many wonderful companions and have eventually made your way to this kingdom. In this world I am know as the Queen of Fire, Svyenna Bazelong. However one thing that will never change is how much I love you.

It pains me not to be able to see you smile and I look forward to the day where we will be reunited. You’ve probably had trouble reading most of the text of this world, right? Included with this letter you’ll find a monocle that will help translate the writing for you! Think of it as one more gift before we meet again.

Be safe, stay strong, and most importantly, Mother loves you with all her heart.

Love, Mom.]

George began welling up in tears as the image of his mother with her wild luxurious hair flowing in the wind overlooking the city played in his mind. He hugged the letter tight as he smiled. He was overjoyed, finally some of the pieces began clicking into place!

He picked up the monocle again and dug around his bag for the first letter. When he opened it up it just seemed like the same old gibberish as before, until he put the monocle to his eye.

Strangely, it didn’t seem like this was a letter and more of a journal entry moreover it wasn’t her handwriting, it was someone elses, their writing was rougher, more jagged. His joy melted away slowly as he read the journal entry.

[Stargate 1776, year 1555

I’ve finally done it. With this the kingdom will be a much better place. That bitch was too weak to do what must be done. I did my best to stay on the sidelines but it’s been enough. I’ve had enough. As I am writing this, the blood of those damned nobles flows upon the streets. They have run this kingdom into the fucking ground. I plan to burn all past artifacts of the previous Queen’s rule. Quite fitting isn’t it? The rule of the Queen of fire ends in a blaze.

It felt so good to wring the neck of such a weak-willed ruler. I’m sure master will make me the next king. He is the King Maker after all. He said he would make all my grandest ideals a reality, so this must all have been worth it, right?

Right?

B. Cabinruz]

Chapter 20 [A King in Fool’s robes] end.

Chapter 21 [Rage and Blood]

George could barely hold onto the page as it fluttered to the ground. A volatile hatred coursed through his veins as all of the emotions cycled through him. All of the recent memories of how the two of them sat down together after several training sessions. Tears began to fall from his eyes onto the paper, the ink spreading as they fell. "That lying son of a bitch...I.....I trusted him.." He heard the voice of the man who once congratulated him on his training, call George's mother a bitch in his mind.

"They need to know.." he said to himself as he opened the door in a huff and ran down the hall, stopping at the room Rupert and Blaire were staying in. The once peaceful game the two were engaged in halted by the sudden slam of the door, their eyes peeled from the cards to George.

"Cabinruz is a lying bastard! He killed my goddamn mom!" George shouted. Blaire put down their cards and approached George. "Hey, hey, I get it...just sit down, okay? There's something we need to tell you"

George stared at the two of them as they revealed their true mission: to spark a revolution against the tyrant king Cabinruz. When everything was laid bare, George looked up at them, tears still streaming down his face.

"So, what now?" He asked.

"Now that you know the truth, you must know we plan to attack three weeks from now." Rupert said, arms still crossed.

"So that's it? I just have to wait? That's bullshit!" George yelled. They all sat in silence until George huffed.

The next three weeks were utter torture. George saw the face of his mother's murderer each and every day, and every day he cursed every smile that man gave him. After each session of training, he trained relentlessly to improve his powers until the last day.

Upon the day of judgment, no sun shined in the sky. Ominous clouds covered the whole kingdom, shrouding it in near darkness. When Cabinruz made it to the balcony, he was surprised to see George waiting for him. "Ah George, my boy, finally beat me here have you?"

The sound of his name coming from that murderer's mouth felt like ooze crawling along his flesh. He resisted the urge to slit his throat when he felt Cabinruz's hand on his shoulder.

"Three weeks..." George said quietly.

Cabinruz tilted his head as he came closer to George's head. "What did you say?"

He spoke a bit louder. "Three weeks..."

Cabinruz leaned in closer. at this point he was practically leaning over George's shoulder. It was at this moment that George turned around, grabbing Cabinru by the collar of his shirt, tears streaming down his face. "For three hellish weeks, I have endured with the knowledge of what you truly are!"

He pushed Cabinruz onto the ground, a storm swelling behind them. Cabinruz's gaze much more serious than before. "So you know the truth.. So there's no need to hold back.." He said calmly as he pushed George off. "Come. Show me the fruits of your labor!" He said arms wide in beckoning, claws sharpened to a point.

As the two of them fought tooth and nail, the clouds above erupted into a furious storm. Green lightning flashed at each strike, igniting the sky. George screamed with each blow the two exchanged. It was only when George rushed at Cabinruz with a massive fist that battle shifted. Thunder boomed as the punch connected, knocking Cabinruz into the railing of the balcony. He let out a pained laugh as he spoke.

"Oh what a wonderful monster you've become my boy..." The words felt like venom as George crushed the tyrant king's throat. He watched the light leave the king's eyes as he tossed him off of the ledge.

"Let the revolution begin." George said as the king's body splattered onto the castle square below, A crowd slowly gathering around the fallen king's carcass.

Jewelry of the Apocalypse [Book One] End.