Enakhra dreamt of fire.
More specifically, she dreamt of Freneskae. When she had finally acquiesced to get a few hours' rest while the demons did the same, thoughts of her old home were far from her mind. Yet now they filled it, images of hard black rock and molten rivers of fire, of screaming horrors that swept from Mah's demented mind to plague their people, of Mahjarrat long since forgotten struggling futilely on the altar, gasping for breath while the others were simply relieved that they were not in their place.
They weren't all pleasant dreams, however. Sometimes she thought she saw her family. And other times, she thought she saw Zamorak.
When she awoke, Palkeera was sprawled next to her, and the sun was rising. She nudged her companion, only to have her jerk into a sitting position and fix Enakhra with cold eyes full of fear.
"You feel it?" she whispered.
"Oh yes," she replied.
In the early morning air, Enakhra felt a feeling of great warmth enter her. Something was different, and in her heart of hearts she thought she knew what it was. She stretched out, not that she particularly needed to, and drew her gaze towards the camp, where the first demons were beginning to rouse themselves. Abbagoth, still half asleep by the looks of it, bellowed at his forces distantly.
She frowned. "Where's-"
"Unbelievable," a snarl came from behind her. She turned to see Zemouregal, pacing back and forth and muttering to himself. He aimed a kick at the bone guard, who scurried out of the way and hissed at him.
"My biggest fan is never far behind," Enakhra said. "What the hell are you doing?"
Zemouregal stared at her, and then at Palkeera. "Something's different," he said.
Enakhra grinned. "I suppose so," she said vaguely.
Zemouregal paced about agitatedly, face screwed up in thought. Enakhra would have found it funny if he also didn't look like he would scatter her atoms to the four corners of the world if she laughed.
"What's your problem?" she snapped finally, climbing into a standing position. She tested her ability discreetly and was pleased when she found the magic rushing eagerly to her fingertips.
Zemouregal fixed her with a glare, but to her surprise turned to Palkeera to answer. "Do you feel it?" he asked.
"Yes," she whispered.
The other Mahjarrat laughed, seemingly moving past his earlier foul mood in an instant. Enakhra winced at its obnoxiousness. "You're in trouble now," he said in a sing-song voice. Palkeera blanched, but did not respond.
With that, he strode towards the demons, yelling for Abbagoth. His voice had faded away the further he got, and in any case Enakhra wasn't listening.
Enakhra faced Palkeera nervously. "You're going to be fine," she wanted to say, but it ended up sounding more like, "We should go with him."
Palkeera nodded, and set off briskly ahead of Enakhra towards the demon encampment. Enakhra followed slowly behind, letting her mind be consumed with thought.
Abbagoth had nearly finished whipping the last demon into a standing position by the time she got there. He seemed even more agitated than Zemouregal, who had settled into his usual smug position to the left of Abbagoth on top of a sandstone boulder, surveying the mass of demons like he owned them.
Enakhra elbowed her way into the crowd. "Watch it," a demoness snarled before seeing who she was talking to and falling silent, aghast. Enakhra ignored her and made her way to where Palkeera was standing, facing Abbagoth with her arms wrapped loosely around her stomach. Enakhra wondered if she'd noticed.
"My friends," Abbagoth began. Whatever quiet conversations were still being held amongst the crowd were silenced. "Today is a grand day."
The demons cheered. They didn't need to be told; Enakhra knew they must feel his presence as keenly as she did, hanging about their shoulders and filling their lungs like air was supposed to.
Still, they cheered, and Enakhra didn't blame them. Her heart swelled when she heard Abbagoth confirm it, and she noticed herself grinning stupidly. She didn't try to stop it, either. For once, she thought. Let me be happy.
Zemouregal butted in, taking Abbagoth's place on the makeshift stage with his shoulder blade. The Tsutsaroth demon glared at him, but had no time to interject before Zemouregal began his own speech.
"Ladies and gentledemons," he said. "Today is the day you've all! Been! Waiiiiiting for!" the crowd cheered again. Enakhra wondered if they wouldn't start eating one another right then and there.
"He hails from a foreign land, but now he is one of your own!" Zemouregal shouted, pointing his finger at the crowd. "You may know him as your deliverer. Your savior. The one who led you from your old ways into the bright new world of Gielinor, ready for the conquering! The one! The only!"
From around Zemouregal puffs of smoke began to coalesce. The demons went absolutely wild at this, climbing on top of one another and moving in a mass of frenzied demon that Enakhra carefully made sure broke whenever it got near her with a snarl and an upraised arm.
Zemouregal waited until the smoke began to swirl around the area next to him before gesturing to it and screaming as loud as he could, "Zaaaaaaaamorak!"
With that, the smoke flashed so bright the demons had to cover their eyes, and in an instant, a tall, purple clad figure appeared. It raised its arms and flashed the crowd two outstretched fingers on either hand. The noise around Enakhra had become deafening, but Enakhra didn't care. She was rooted to the spot. If she had breath, it would have deserted her by now. In an instant, all the world revolved around the figure in front of her.
"Good morning!" Zamorak bellowed. The demons yelled it back to him in multiple languages, all cascading on top of one another until it was utterly incomprehensible.
Behind him lurked several other demons. Bodyguards, she supposed. They were much bigger than the demons that crowded around her, and even Abbagoth himself seemed small next to them. Speaking of, he had been sulking nearby while Zemouregal gave his speech, but now he too seemed to be taken in by the god.
Zamorak basked in the adulation for a few moments more before he let his arms fall to his sides and fixed the crowd with a steely gaze. Getting the hint, the demons fell silent.
"My friends," he said. "An important day looms ahead of us."
The demons stayed in rapturous silence.
"Even now, you march towards it. Some of you may be yet unaware, but it comes for you like a speeding dwarf cart. One of the greatest moments in history lies ahead of you."
Enakhra was silent. The world hung in perfect stillness. Every word of Zamorak's floated through it like a wind through an ancient city.
Zamorak grinned, and threw his hands in the air. "For soon, the hateful city of Senntisten will be wiped from the face of the world! And you, my friends, will be the ones to do it!"
Zamorak almost hadn't finished talking when the demons around him began to roar. This time, Zamorak let them continue, watching with apparent glee as the demons pounded their chests and yelled to the sky and even began to fight one another. Abbagoth's roars for silence were ignored.
Enakhra was shaken from her stupor when Palkeera brushed past her and made her way from the crowd. She wanted to call to her, but just as she opened her mouth Zamorak resumed his speech.
"It will not be easy," the god continued. "History has taught us this. But the Zarosians have grown weak. They cling to their safety while we grow ever stronger in the real world!"
As one, the demons let out a roar of agreement.
"And soon, the cowardly Chthonians will be extinguished once and for all!" As soon as Zamorak said the word "Chthonian" the crowd began to roar louder than Enakhra had ever heard from demons before, and Zamorak, seemingly knowing that he wouldn't get them to stop any time soon, finished his speech at the top of his metaphorical lungs. "They thought they could keep you down! But you are Avernics, the greatest children of Infernus, and you! Will not! Be slaves! Anymore!"
The cheering was deafening, but Enakhra's attention was fixed solely on Zamorak, who had stepped down from the rock with Abbagoth and consulted with him quietly as they walked away towards Abbagoth's new tent. Zemouregal followed them like a lost puppy.
These thoughts were interrupted when Enakhra felt a nudge on her arm. She snarled and turned towards a small demon, little more than half her height. "Lord Zamorak requests your presence," it said loudly to make itself heard over the demons. With no Zamorak or Abbagoth to quiet them, they continued their impromptu party with no signs of stopping any time soon.
Enakhra froze as the thing scurried away. Hands clenched, she forced herself to move towards the tent.
…
"…didn't tell them?" said Abbagoth as Enakhra entered the tent. Zemouregal, standing in the corner, glowered at her, but she ignored him.
"Ah, Enakhra," Zamorak said, turning to her. Her own name, said by him, hit her like a bomb and she immediately bowed to the god of chaos.
"My lord," she said. "I am once again at your service."
Zamorak smiled at this, which made her heart soar. "I see that," he said. "It is good to have you back. I must ask, though. What drew you from your vigil?"
Enakhra frowned. "My lord?"
"You know. What made you decide to emerge from your pyramid after all this time?"
Your pyramid, something inside her said sadly, but after so long she had learned to quell it. "I had decided to be done with moping," she said. "I know now where my true place is, and it is at your side."
Something in Enakhra shivered with guilt, but she wasn't exactly lying. She knew every word was true.
"And yet…" Zamorak said, his voice going microscopically lower.
"My lord?" she asked, hoping she kept the fear from her voice.
"You travel with Palkeera."
Enakhra nodded. "She has sworn herself to you, at my behest." She thought of the pathetic, handmade symbol Palkeera had made for herself, and told herself again that she wasn't lying.
Zamorak nodded. "Perhaps," he said. "But I have been talking with Zemouregal and Abbagoth, and they seem to think you have a bond with her."
"That's ridiculous," she snapped, before remembering herself and stammering "W-with all respect, My lord."
Zamorak seemed to consider this before Zemouregal had his own outburst. "I've seen it myself, my lord," he said in a tone slightly too content for the situation. "She protects that wretched woman and her unborn child against all reason."
"My lord, you are surely aware of the coming deficiency of Mahjarrat children," Enakhra protested. "I am simply safeguarding our future as a species!"
"Is not," Zemouregal said.
"Is too! I mean, I am – that's what I'm doing, my lord!" Enakhra shot a death glare at Zemouregal, who grinned at her.
"Children, children, I love you both equally," Zamorak said distractedly. He turned to face Abbagoth. "Is what Zemouregal says true?"
The Tsutsaroth demon shuffled his hooves. "To a point, my lord," he said. "It's true that Enakhra protects Palkeera, but it is also true that they both have served as valuable assets in my campaign. And under Enakhra's wing, it seems that Palkeera has grown into quite the fighter. She could be very useful. And as Enakhra says," he continued, casting a glance at her, "more Mahjarrat will always be welcome in our fight, especially ones born to our cause."
Zamorak nodded. He looked at Enakhra again, whom felt his gaze like the desert felt the rain. "Then I should not expect it will be a problem," he said. Enakhra felt the tension leave her body almost instantly, leaving behind nothing but adulation. Abbagoth looked pleased that Zamorak had echoed his own sentiments from what felt like so long ago.
"However," he said. "If this partnership becomes detrimental in any way to your service, I expect you to terminate it immediately. The future of the Mahjarrat is important, but this campaign could be the most important thing to happen in the history of the Wars. Do you understand?"
"Yes, my lord," Enakhra said breathlessly.
Zamorak nodded and leaned back in his chair. "Then," he said. "I am formally assigning you, Zemouregal, and Palkeera to Abbagoth's regiment. You will aid him in pushing past what was once Kharid-Et and join with the Saradominists at Silvarea, which I am sure Abbagoth has already informed you of."
The Mahjarrat nodded.
"Then that is all for now," the god said. "I'm afraid I won't be able to accompany you on your quest. I have business to attend to, but I am quite sure that I will be seeing you all again on Senntisten's doorstep."
"Of course, my lord," Enakhra said, bowing once more.
"Then I shall take my leave," Zamorak said. "Good luck to you all." With that, he disappeared much less ceremoniously than he had appeared.
Everyone in the room, such as it was, seemed to let out a breath. Zamorak was an intimidating presence, and although they all followed him (and none of them would admit it), it was a bit less stressful to do so from a distance.
"You didn't tell him about the traitor," Zemouregal said bluntly to Abbagoth after a few moments of silence.
Enakhra jerked guiltily. She had been thinking a lot about Zemouregal's claim, and had remembered Abbagoth's own request to her about it. In the chaos of battle she'd forgotten about his words, but now that whoever it was had acted twice, the matter was on the forefront of her mind. She'd hoped to tell Zamorak so he could figure it out, and apparently Zemouregal had the same thoughts.
Abbagoth sighed. "No," he said. "Getting Zamorak himself involved would tip their hand-"
"Not that they could pull the same nonsense once the god of chaos had them in his sights," Zemouregal retorted.
Abbagoth glared at him. "It would also alert our forces," he said. "The last thing we need amongst the demons is mistrust and suspicion. It's a long way to go to Silvarea."
"I agree with Abbagoth on this one," Enakhra said. "It's better our investigation be kept secret for now."
Zemouregal rolled his eyes. "Fine. Fine! Let me just register my opinion that you're both idiots, though."
"Noted," Abbagoth said drily. "But now that you're under my command, I'd suggest you show me more respect in the future."
"Respect this," Zemouregal said, making an ancient and arcane gesture with his fingers and leaving the tent hastily.
Enakhra couldn't help but laugh. Not at Zemouregal, since she'd sworn a solemn oath a long time ago that she would never find anything he did funny, but at the situation. She'd wondered a while ago what differentiated Abbagoth's camp from the horrid Zarosian system, but she thought she knew now. Abbagoth respected his soldiers. Something like what had just happened would never be allowed under Zaros, because, as Enakhra suspected, everyone feared that someone below them would betray them. For all his faults, Zemouregal was loyal, and Abbagoth knew it.
Abbagoth himself sighed and started to make his own way out of the tent. "It's good to have you on board," he said to Enakhra. "You should give Palkeera the news."
Now alone, Enakhra sighed. She knew that was coming. She had no idea how the other Mahjarrat would react, but she told herself it wouldn't be too bad. After all, they were still on the same track, right?
Enakhra frowned and left the tent empty behind her.
Hey-o! I had a lot of fun writing the first part of this chapter, can you tell? :P
Anyway, who's hyped for River of Blood, right!? Maybe my theory that Vanescula is really Efaritay turned into a vampyre by Drakan will finally be proven right. Well, likely not, but who's counting?
Anyway, I hope you guys are doing well. Peace!