Falias, Finias Chapter Fifteen
Suggested Theme:
Main Theme- End of the Night by The Doors
The lampposts' crystals glow as dusk encroaches upon the heat-soaked gloom of the city. The rats scurry to a nearby pool of green sludge and dive into it as two patrolman walk on by. The scrap metal and rusted houses light up with their own private crystals as Creatures return to their homes after a long summer day. A human, covered in soot for unfortunately passing by a stove merchant after his delivers, turns into a stream of blue code and returns to a home after a long summer day.
"Any more deliveries today?" Kazdan asks as soon as he enters the blue room. The toddler is on the floor, making a pyramid out of his stone blocks, and then placing Chaor on the top. He then pulls out a block and Chaor falls.
"There's one, but it's best that I do it." Lachima responds while sewing up the holes of a tattered, orange veil for a wedding he presumes.
"Who is it?"
"Brimflame's fiancée. She's been…changing her mind on her wedding dresses."
"How many are there?"
"Three. One for morning ceremony, one for noon vows, and one for the night reception. Her family is very traditional and rich." The eyes in the brass the mirror roll with condescension. He doesn't react with shock at the eyes' sentience. After weeks of being Lachima's delivery boy, he has developed a stronger will for the UnderWorld. Though he would argue that some things still make his stomach turn like delivering Dairus's paper-thin lingerie.
"So a wedding lasts an entire day in the UnderWorld?"
"The traditional ones do. Nowadays, it's just the better part of the afternoon. OverWorlders spend days on theirs!" Her thin lips weave into a sneer and then twist downward into a matronly frown.
"That must be expensive." I can't even stand being at a party for more than two hours, unless they were at an arcade like Tom's usually were.
"I know, imagine the outfits they must go through!" Ah, so it's the loss of profits that bother her. She and Dairus would get along fabulously if Dairus wasn't so afraid of her. What did she do to her?
"Would you be really happy with all that work? You would have more money, but then you would have to hire more help."
"That is true, and very few can handle this line of business. Also, you're the only one of Chaor's friends that I enjoy."
"….Friend?" His face turns red as he imagines Chaor being buddy-buddy with him like going bowling or playing videogames, and then he laughs out loud. The toddler looks at him like he grew another head.
"Yes, Chaor has friends. Very few. You should be proud."
"I know next to nothing about him." And there's no way he knows anything personal about me, unless he bugged the toddler's room…which wouldn't be out of a character for an autocrat. He probably watches me from that crystal of his and judges me harshly for not teaching his son how to speak earlier.
"You're both lonely." She finally finishes her repair and plucks the loose thread. She leaves the veil in her lap and moves onto the next one; this one is a deep blue like the color of a starless night. He thinks about opening his mouth to dissuade her, but he decides to consider her words more carefully.
Historically, rulers are likely to have more enemies than friends, and even their friends are liable to stab them in the front like twenty-three times with only one being fatal. Then again, the Liberators weren't really friends with Caesar. Considering how the UnderWorld appears to be an absolute monarchy, I don't think Chaor would have to worry about a senate. Or being stabbed since his skin is probably tougher than a brick wall… Are Takinom and Agitos his friends? They're both his advisors and completely loyal to him. I bet they fear him too, maybe not as badly as his enemies, but perhaps far too much to be friendly with him. Do they even know about the toddler?
The toddler tugs at his pant leg, snapping him from his thoughts. The toddler makes a big show of yawning, and he smiles.
"You're right, it's time to go." He looks back at Lachima who waves them away with one hand. He kneels and starts putting the blocks away in the bag; the toddler helps by handing off the blocks to him, one by one. Yet, he keeps a tight grip on Chaor.
By the time they make it back into the city and right in time for the patrollers to pass them, one butt of the spear makes such a clatter on the cobblestones, and he presumes that one of them must be new. Kazdan knows to keep his eyes down so not to draw their attention, but the toddler likes to do the exact opposite.
"Knock it off." Kazdan whispers to the toddler when one of the guards momentarily ceases their movement. The toddler bears his teeth like an arrogant little lion cub. The guard looks to his partner who shakes his helm. They continue their patrol, but the guard looks back at them before disappearing down another stretch of the city.
"One of these nights, a guard is going to haul you to the Pits for being so rude." Kazdan does his best to sound grave, but it comes out as snappish like his nerves. The toddler huffs and waves Chaor like a protective charm, and he shakes his head at such arrogance.
They reach the castle grounds and pass the ever faceless guards, but collide with Dairus. Kazdan lets out a loud oomph and loses his grip on the toddler's hand. The toddler spins to avoid the worst of the damage but loses his grip on Chaor. The statue tumbles hard and head first into ground, losing a horn in the aftermath.
"Thank the Cothica, you weren't as portly as Dardemus!" She scoffs, while Kazdan gets up and rubs his sore ass.
"I thought you were Dardemus." He ripostes, making the toddler snicker.
"Have fun with the babe tonight!" She smugly proclaims before resuming her light run.
"W-Wait, what about Nivenna!?"
"Has a play, and I have an engagement party to cater! So you'll have to watch him." She pauses briefly.
"Do I get overtime?"
"You can ask Chaor that!" She cackles and makes it out of the gate with her pack of kitchenware bouncing against her. He glares and nurses a malicious hope that her clients get food poisoning. He looks down at the toddler with the damaged Chaor in his hand.
"Do you have the horn?" The toddler presents the horn in his other hand and then turn to toss it towards the guards. It doesn't even make it halfway there.
"Really?" He sighs, while the toddler nods and pulls him towards the castle. "Why are you in such a hurry?"
The toddler stops pulling him and holds up his damaged Chaor as high as he can without the indignity of going on his tippy-toes.
"I can't fix it without that horn you threw away and I don't know if glue exists here and where to get it." He dully informs. The toddler shakes his head, causing his limp curls to clash against each other like dull corkscrews.
"What? You want to see Chaor?" He half-teases. The toddler nods with utter certainty, which causes him to break out in a lukewarm sweat.
Dairus did imply that Chaor is here, but he could be gone. Maybe took a secret tunnel to the Pits to interrogate some suspects? Or maybe he's lounging in that secret pool of his. Yeah, probably that! Probably…But what if he isn't? What if he's in his room taking a shower? What if I uncover another horrible secret of his that I never imagined he could have? But the toddler wants to see his father. Shouldn't I at least try?
"Okay, but if he doesn't answer the door, we're going back to your room." He promises, and the toddler nods in agreement. They continue into the castle and wind down the Small Hall; they go through the left door and pass the ornate throne, the bones, the ghosts of Locations, and ascend the stone steps. Kazdan's steps grow heavier the closer he gets to the door and fights the urge to turn back.
They make it to the door. He hears nothing from the other side for a minute and he sighs softly in relief. He's not here. He's not here!
"Time to–"
The toddler bangs the bottom of Chaor's stone feet against the door like a drum.
"Who's there!" The Supreme Ruler of the UnderWorld growls through his door and kills all of Kazdan's hopes.
"U-Um, K-Kazdan Kalinkas, s-sir!" Why did I say "sir?" Wouldn't it be like Your Majesty? Or "Lord Chaor" like everyone else!?
"What do you want?" He imagines Chaor's blue eyes flashing like lightning on the other side complementing with the thundering boom of his voice.
"U-Uh, your s-ward wants to tell you something?" The words leave his mouth as awkwardly as his mind conjured up.
The door opens wide, bringing him face-to-midsection with Chaor.
I've never realized how hot he is. Like literally. It's like standing directly in front of a bonfire. Does he feel that? Because I sure didn't when I was him–Oh shit, he's glaring at me. What do I do? WHATDOIDO!?
"Die." The word echoes fine before disappearing into the ether. He turns as pale as the speaker beside him, but the speaker's blue eyes blaze like hellfire on his cherubic face.
"Die." The toddler repeats. Chaor lets loose a nasty growl from his gargoyle mouth, causing Kazdan to shrink further in his presence. And in a lightning flash, Chaor pulls the toddler inside and slams the door shut.
Kazdan steps back.
He turns.
He runs.
Perhaps, I have gone too far.
He has heard this thought echo across many Creatures' mind, and a few times with his Caretaker during their readings, but not Chaor's. He keeps his thoughts to himself just like those dead little pebbles. Right now, in Chaor's strong grip, he could attempt to catch a thought from that iron-clad fortress since emotional outbursts leave the mind vulnerable. At least that's what he presumes considering how often he's read his Caretaker's mind without getting caught.
He could break my wrist. Break my entire arm.
If Chaor added anymore pressure, then the former will happen. The crone told him what Chaor has done to those that betrayed him: fed one to Toxis, let another become Ulmar's test subject, but most lost their heads. He elicited a smile from her when he told her what happened in the church.
It would be quick. He's not Gothos.
Today, the crone regaled him on how Gothos marked the start of his reign:
"After he overthrew Chellus, Gothos decided to better secure his claim to the throne by executing the last of the royal family. Chellus was fed to Klesh in the Colosseum for the public to see. The son was dragged behind Gothos's Skeletal Steed during his victory parade for the public to hear. Ustrinor was flayed for several days until she finally died from infection. He thought he rid the UnderWorld of royal blood, but he forgot that the son had a friend, a friend willing to lay down his life for the son…"
"Speak."
"…."
"I know you can." His voice rumbles with a warning.
"…Die."
"In sentences!" "Don't try me!" The toddler picks up from Chaor's scowling face.
"Would you kindly free me from your power, milord!" He recites the line with pure anger instead of the dry sarcasm that Nivenna is surely employing in her play.
"It's release not free." Chaor lets go of him, and the toddler makes a great show of rubbing his wrists. Chaor merely grunts.
"And you read all of Mel's work front and back?"
"Melinoë. Her name was Melinoë." His eyes dim into embers, flickering in and out of sadness. The toddler's heart-shaped lips turn into a frown, not liking the heaviness in his chest threatening to pull his heart down into his stomach.
"…Caretaker wanted to make you happy."
"There's very little he can do to make me happy."
"He cares for me, and you aren't happy about how he's cared for me?"
"He's done well enough."
"Not the answer!" The toddler nearly stamps his little boot down, but he wants Chaor to take him seriously. And not call it cute like Nivenna would.
"I'm happy with what he's done for you, but he's not an UnderWorlder."
"He's human."
"That's a handicap, but he can learn like he does with all of his songs."
"Not yet an UnderWorlder."
"Very much like you."
"….Will you send him away?" The toddler hates how his voice crackles with fear like he's a babe again without any certainty if he'd make it through the night.
"No. He's useful."
"Even when he runs from you?"
"He's smart enough to keep you alive, but not smart enough to wait outside like anyone with commonsense would."
"He thought you were going to kill him for disappointing you."
"I'd only do that if he's a proven traitor." Chaor gives him a simmering glare. "And you need to stop digging your talons in others' brains."
"I could be useful."
"Only when you become wise." Chaor then grunts out, "Right around the time when the human becomes courageous."
"Why don't you show me some wisdom by finding my Caretaker?" The toddler sasses, like Lachima would claim during their time together, though he would argue that he's just offering suggestions in a straightforward manner.
Chaor doesn't growl or snarl at him, but he smiles so widely that his sharp teeth poke out menacingly out of his beak-like mouth. The toddler feels his stomach do a flip like something terrible was going to happen like back in Everrain.
"Oh, I will, and then I'll set you both straight."
Kazdan's adrenaline runs out long before his fear does and makes him fall to his knees, catching his breath and wits. He looks up and sees the stained glass porthole of Chaor and realizes that he made it to the cathedral. One of the doors is cracked open, and he looks around to see if Chaor or his guards are around. He sees no one and decides to slip inside before he's caught.
Inside, his boots make a splash. He lifts a foot up and sees red, while his nose wrinkles at finally taking in the metallic stench in the church. He looks around for the source of the blood puddle.
Not in the six rows of black marble pews, or, a marble-like material since there's more fire symbols to it. Not in the ceiling of carved angry faces of UnderWorlders; I see the same chicken guy from before and some other guy looking a bit like Chaor but with pupils. These are well done like classic Roman busts, even the columns holding the roof up are exquisite. Focus! The altar has a dead rat on top of it. But how did its blood get all the way over here? There's not even a trail–
The doors creak a warning, and he scrambles to hide behind a pillar. A shadowy Creature comes in with a rusted bucket of a bubbling, glowing liquid in one wispy hand and a mop in the other.
Blaaxa? Is she a cleaning lady? How is she able to hold things? She literally pass through me! So does she have telekinesis? Or can she solidify parts of her body? Or maybe the mop and bucket were designed for Ethereal like her? What am I doing thinking about all this? I have the perfect chance to scan her and this column seems solid enough to protect me from Flame Orbs!
He pulls out his scanner from the diaper bag, leans out long enough for his Scanner to get a lock on her, and scans. The noise immediately causes Blaaxa to drop her cleaning supplies and look directly at him; she lets out a scream that nearly makes him cover his ears. But he holds out long enough for the scan. And then he covers up his ears, nearly smashing in his right ear.
"GIVE ME BACK MY CODE, YOU MONSTER!" She wails but doesn't dare approach him. He finally puts his Scanner back into the bag. He holds out his empty hands towards her.
"See! I put it away, so stop screaming, please!" He even decides to come out from behind the safety of his pillar to prove how unthreatening he is. Blaaxa devolves to whimpering.
"G-Give me back my code!" She insists.
"Okay, I, or really my Scanner, made a copy of it. I didn't steal it. You still have your code."
"Why would you need a copy? Is it for your experiments?" The hysteria on her face reminds him of the infamous melted man picture, and he wishes he could laugh out loud without offending her.
"No, for the game. We, as in us humans or Chaotic players, go to these special dromes and become whatever Creatures we scanned. And then we fight."
"…What is your reward for victory?"
"Nothing really except victory and a chance to challenge the master of the drome if you get seven wins. I don't think it's in a row, or else no one would get to fight the CodeMasters…" He trails off. Her face smooths back into blankness.
"…..So it's another pissing contest."
"Oh, you have that term too!" He then answers, "I can't really participate since I have a job here…"
"Are you the human caring for Mel's bastard?"
"How do you know that the child is hers?" He retorts weakly, and Blaaxa lets out a raspy sigh.
"One, I was one of the two Creatures that prepared her body for her funeral right in this very cathedral. Considering the roundness of her belly at the time, it's fair to assume that she was pregnant when she died. Two, her baby was one of the guests at the funeral, and no one else in the audience shared his looks except the corpse in question. Finally, Chaor footed the bill."
"How is the last one related to the child being hers?"
"Let's just say this isn't the first funeral he magnanimously decided to fund fully." The venom in her tone surprises him because he didn't think anyone, aside Van Bloot and his cohorts, in the UnderWorld had the guts to criticize Chaor to another person.
But am I person to her? Not a few minutes ago, she said I was a monster. Either she believes that I won't rat her out to Chaor, or that Chaor won't believe someone like me. And the saddest thing is Melinoë wasn't the first love of his to die…
"How many funerals?"
"The ones that I was a part of numbered to three including hers. Before my apprenticeship, I wouldn't know. And when I become a full member of the Funeral Guild, I wouldn't dare risk my career to find out."
Three. Three have died that I know of. The rest could be alive, but it's more than likely they died in childbirth considering the environment here. Or from miscarriage. How many Catherine of Aragons did he go through? I don't want to think about this anymore…
"After Melinoë, I think he's finally decided to do the right thing and quit killing those poor Creatures."
"What do you mean?" He frowns, absolutely knowing that he's going to hate what she'll say next.
"I haven't heard anyone bragging about the honor of burning coals with him, and it's been almost a solon since her death. And he doesn't strike me as the type to wait until the ashes have been spread to find another bedmate."
"Maybe he's still mourning her." Blaaxa makes a tsk-like sound, more reminiscent of a broken kazoo, when considering this angle.
"Her funeral was so grand, grander than the others. One befitting a queen. I think he actually loved her, but not enough to keep her alive."
"It's not like she knew she was going to die." He couldn't be hell-bent on an heir like Henry VII; the toddler doesn't even live above the stairs! He doesn't give a shit about who rules after him because he could live forever if Maxxor doesn't kill him.
"He would've known, anyone would really when you looked at her. She couldn't even perform the simplest attacks, even Bodal would've been able to defeat her after a strong Pebble Storms That's why her only job was theater."
"Maybe she was secretly a Muge." This makes her snort derisively; he presumes the high-whistle sound is one.
"A Muge wouldn't waste their time with theater, even Kopond refused to go to her shows, and her shows were the best that the UnderWorld had ever seen!"
"Well, he has shit taste."
"Ooo, you have that phrase too."
"There's a lot of similarities between humans and Creatures. Such as funerals costing way more gold than they should."
Blaaxa lets out a high screech and shakes; he presumes this is her way of laughing. She stops only when they hear the sound of a loud motor.
"That would be Lord Chaor, and he doesn't come to the Keep unless he's looking for someone or another funeral."
"The Keep? Is that really the name of the cathedral?"
"It's formally known as Ustrinor's Keep, named after the last legitimate queen of the UnderWorld." The motor roars louder, and she continues. "He wants you, human."
"Kazdan. My name is Kazdan Kalinkas." He believes she won't remember it after this night.
"Go, Kazdan!"
And he does.
Chaor on a Mowercycle has always been a cool image to him. There's even such a figure being sold on the site's store, but he doesn't have enough money for the steep price they're asking. He'd settle for this brief reality before he's surely dragged through the streets on the back of the Battlegear.
Your Scanner is in the bag, just get it and port–
"Don't." The toddler's voice cuts through his panic. The toddler sits serenely between Chaor's thighs, and Kazdan cannot help but Chaor's parental wisdom for not even putting a helmet on his own child.
"Why'd you choose this place to hide?" Kazdan believes it's rhetorical until Chaor growls a second later.
"U-Uh….I'm fond of stained glass?" He says with the most awkward smile on his face because he feels like laughter would only further aggravate Chaor.
"It is pretty great." Chaor flashes a vainglory grin.
So appealing to vanity is the surefire way of avoiding death in Perim? Thank you, Lystone! Kazdan nods his head.
"But if you ever run from me again, I'll let Lachima keep you." What has Lachima done to these UnderWorlders to be considered such a grave punishment? Does that mean I'll be her slave? H'earring said slavery was outlawed here, but he also said that debts can be collected through forced labor. And I am human, so I doubt those rights extend to me.
"U-Understood, Lord Chaor!"
"Good, get on." He orders gruffly. Kazdan looks down at the toddler and wonders if he's expected to sit in Chaor's lap because there is no room on the seat since Chaor's tail takes up all the back. He resigns himself to sitting in Chaor's lap like the toddler and goes to pick up the toddler so he can sit. There's very little space between Chaor's thighs, and he decides to just sit sidesaddle on Chaor's lap like a medieval princess. The toddler settles onto his sideways lap and loops his tiny arms around him a little too tightly.
"Toddler, you're choking me!"
"Isolor." Chaor corrects.
"Isolor–wait, what?" The toddler, Isolor, loosens his hold in surprise.
"Isolor. That's his name." Chaor elaborates shortly.
"Oh…it's a strong name." And has the "or" in "Chaor" at the end of it. Is that his subtle way of telling the UnderWorld that child is his? Or is this like the Ancient Romans where they named their children after themselves? Well, it's better than Chaor 2!
"It's the first of its kind."
"Unique then." Isolor beams up with his Chaor-like teeth on full display. Kazdan smirks and waits for that confident guffaw.
"You can quit feeding his ego."
Hypocrite.
"Yes, Lord Chaor."
"Now, hook your twiggy arms around my neck if you can."
"I'm still growing I hope." Why did I say that? He manages to get a weak hold around Chaor's bulging neck; he feels his cheeks burns and hopes that Chaor will keep his eyes on the cobblestones.
"Isolor will be tutored by Agitos twice a week starting tomorrow. Dairus will show you where he lives." Kazdan immediately cranes his head downwards to see the toddler's face.
"….." Isolor pouts but doesn't complain. Kazdan wonders what Chaor said to the toddler in that room to get him to be this compliant. Chaor peels out with all the coolness that Kazdan always imagined he would. Unfortunately, there's more fear than he imagined because he's afraid of losing his grip and falling off the Battlegear, most likely taking Isolor with him.
Isolor. He's Isolor now. I guess some good came out of today. I should probably thank Ornathor if I ever see him again. And I'll tell him that the babe has a name: Isolor!
He smiles blissfully as the cobblestones beneath get clipped by the wheel, and this unique family unit made their way home.
Author's Comments- Here is the link:
Here is the link to season two's episode twelve's "From the Deep Part I." This episode in particular has a map of the UnderWorld with the Doors of the Deep Mines. I presume it's in the most southern part of the UnderWorld. I'm no cartographer, and neither are the UnderWorlders if their art skills are any indication : a href=" /k-9BZ71JYZ4?t=952"Link/a
"Fed one to Toxis" is actually a reference to the threat that Chaor used on Kaz at the end of season one's episode thirteen's "Lord of Treachery." I wouldn't be surprised if Chaor actually did that.
Klesh is not an OC and is the name of the Creature in that nearly ate Peyton, at least that's what the wiki claims, from season one's episode thirty-three's "Train Wreck." I'd like to believe that Chaor had a rather personal reason to lock up Klesh in the Pits.
The toddler's "Don't" is a nod to Chaor's line in season two's episode six's "Chaor's Commandos Part I."
The toddler has a name now. It took fifteen chapters, but it's finally happened. And I believe I will finally get into season one by the end of this year. Hopefully, my resolve won't change in that matter. Thanks to everyone who has stuck it out for more than three years at this point.
Next chapter: Kazdan, Accato, and Reggie need to figure out how to be a band while dealing with the babbling black hole of boring.