The darkness beneath the safe nest of the castle was stirring. In the process of
building, a few casualties had occurred, and Death fed from them with glee. Though it did so
in its sleep. Now it was gaining its energy from these minor flaws. Above its cocoon of
water and rock, the noise of the minions was obvious. They banged and drilled, chiseling
away its entrapment without the slightest of ideas. It could feel their life. Only a few
more years beneath and it would have died. But now there was a chance for survival, and it
seized it.
A crack appeared in its chamber.
-------
Oen hurried to her daughter as soon as able. It had taken a moment to gather her
strength after the all too truthful words of her husband. She came to the top of the building
to find Yorda in the same position as before; back turned and crouched, the wind billowing
at her ghost-like dress. She noted that Yorda had no tears. It was not custom, and she had
remembered so. Oen herself couldn't remember a time when she had cried.
The queen moved next to Yorda and kneeled. She took no notice. But as the soft hand of
her mother pressed against her back to show her comfort and sympathy, Yorda fell to her side
with her head in Oen's lap. She didn't look up or speak; instead she stared at the misty
water that made the landscape.
Oen brushed her hair with her hand, fingertips running across the tender child's skin as she watched her. Yorda reminded her so much of herself. So quiet and gentle. Unknowing to the cruel ways of the world, and to the cruel turn of her father's thoughts. He used to love her and play with her, but that was when he believed he still might have a son. A son and a
daughter would be grand for him, but just a daughter held no chance of her coming to rule.
Any family could come into power if they had horns. Yorda would never have them.
Women never did.
She smiled sadly at her daughter and bent down to place a gentle kiss on her ear, "You
father loves you. He told me so." It was hard to lie and once again against custom, but it
was needed to keep the fragile girl living.
Yorda didn't answer. She laid and stared.
Oen heard the footsteps of someone running a distance away, and it caught both Yorda and Oen's attention immediately. The only time anyone ran was when something was deadly wrong. They heard him round two corners, a flight of stairs, and scramble up the second set of stairs to reach him.
They both stood immediately while Oen demanded in her gentle voice, "What has happened"
Oen noticed he was a young worker. It sent a chill up her spine. The king often went
underground with the workers. He never worked, but watched. Either way, it was odd behavior
for a king and dreadfully dangerous. She knew a worker would not run to her if one of his
companions had been killed.
The worker gasped for breath before managing to leak the words out, "The king, he-..We
are unsure what has happened to him. He is not dead, but he does not move"
She took Yorda's hand and placed it in the young man's, "Take her to her chambers and
do not let her leave. Stay in front of her door until I call you." The worker nodded and Oen
glided past.
More helpers of the kingdom were waiting in the large elevator that had been constructed. To the normal eyes, it was a cage with steel bars leading to a large roof, but
to Oen's people it was only a means of transportation to the misty caverns below.
A man pulled the lever and the cube of steel descended to a spiral staircase. Oen did
not run, but she walked faster than she ever had. Workers could run, but not their queen.
Keeping herself in control would keep panic from spreading. She knew this all too well.
They moved down three more flights of stairs and through a circuitry of confusing
tunnels before reaching him. It was a large room below the castle and on the rim of the
oceans. The very belly of the island they had built on. A massive waterfall towered above
them, the cool stream falling to the base at which they stood. But no noise came when the
water touched. It was deadly silent, and Oen could see why.
Across the hazy water something had formed. It looked to them all as if the mist were
reeking havoc. The cloudy black material unfurled across the cool glass, reaching only the edge of the massive pool before retreating. It made no other move. The waterfall fell into it, but it seemed to be completely absorbed. White ripples contrasted the devastatingly black shape, trembling across it from the impact, but still no sound came. It was
swallowing the water as it did the sound.
Oen stared for only a few moments, assessing the danger at hand. Then she moved to her
king.
-------
Oh, sweet revenge at its finest. It did not matter who these creatures were or if they
had trapped it. Killing always felt like revenge. The taste poured into him. The pounding
continued on the top of his dome. Finally, Death opened its one eye and watched. The bright
glow of the white orb shot to the crack. Pieces of rubble slowly drifted into the
assimilated water, now turned black by its presence.
It could feel power close by. Not the weak workers that thrust the metal object into
his underwater cave. No, it was the leader. How foolish to be so near workers, but it was
all the better for Death. It would take its fill of this power and use it as it wished. Not
to kill him. No, not just yet. Using him would be best.
The ever growing crack finally gave. The fresh water flowed in, and the dark evil
flowed out. The white eye searched hungrily for the first of its victims. Shocked
faces of horned people saw its body spread. Many were in the water helping the chain that
freed him rise and fall. It was too late for them. They would all die in a matter of seconds.
Oh, how it would love to drain these lives. So fresh and pristine. It could tell this
already.
It noticed the king quickly. He stood near the edge of the water, not a look of
surprise on him. Instead he was ordering people about in a calm tone, but in a language it
didn't understand. In fact, it didn't understand any language other than power.
The concentrated evil had enough power for one leap. He would aim perfectly. The
swiftly shifted over the glassy water, and with much haste it struck.
-------
The worker was right. He was not moving, and looked most dead. A steady rising and
falling of his chest told otherwise. It was the only thing that kept Oen from panicking.
She knelt to him and placed a hand to his chest. He felt odd and different. Something
vibrated within him, though it was unseen. She could feel it gathering beneath her hand. She
jerked away as quickly as possible without causing alarm. Whatever it was, it was dangerous.
"Were there any in the water?" she asked.
"Eleven Queen"
"How many left"
"None Queen. They all disappeared the moment it rose from beneath the water. The gods
have spoken"
"You have no authority to make that judgment"
The worker immediately fell silent. She rose and looked to him, quickly noticing that he was the only one without chipped horns. "You are in charge then?" He nodded. She looked down to her husband, doing her best to keep her shaky breaths from being noticeable. Her heart pounded, her skin sweat. Panic held every corner of her form. But she kept from making rash decisions. She had been taught how to handle power, and panicking only lead to more
destruction.
"Get your strongest men and move him to the bed chamber. Undress him and place him
beneath the blankets. Make sure the men you don't need leave this area now. Do not hesitate. I will even allow them to ride with me to the top." She turned and left, even though she felt more like fainting.
Many men gathered into the elevator with her, but she stayed to the back and they kept
a respectable distance. At the top they went their separate ways. A crane that held the
elevator swung to the top of a building which she took. The crane swung again and deposited
the men on a narrow ledge on the other side.
Oen entered the chapel. Many pews lined the four aisles in the spacious area. Their work force was indeed large, and in the chapel there were no signs of higher rank. Oen received her only chance to mingle with her workers in this place, which made it all the more sacred to her.
Priest stood at the far end. He wasn't an elderly man. Quite young actually when looking at him physically, but he was indeed thousands of years old as the rest of them were. Across his forehead a bright yellow sun had been tattooed. Oen remembered seeing him once without his golden hat, and on the back of his bald head was the moon.
He sat on a cushion in the middle of the alter, not facing forward or backward like she
expected, but to one side. His eyes were closed and head tilted upward. No matter how soft
she walked, he always noticed her. It was a private game of theirs, but she didn't play it
today. She swiftly marched toward the alter.
"I know what has happened," he said in his slow, melancholy tone.
"What can we do to stop it? What can we do to help him?" There would be no dodging
questions today. The priest knew her true self, so she could speak as openly as
she wished.
"Leave. We must all leave today. Do you know what that was"
"No. Priest, you must tell me"
He opened his eyes and stared at a window. After a moment he turned to face her. She
sat kneeled before him by habit. Soon he spoke, "Have you ever seen death in a way other
than accidents or in a way other than when we chose to leave this realm? I have, but you are
too young. Long ago, this entire planet knew of a word called aging. The moment you were
born, you began to die. And very quickly no less. The people that lived then managed to stay
alive for a mere 80 to 90 years if lucky. They thought the gods had presented them with this, but it was Death. Death steals life. Maybe over a quick course of years, but possibly
instantaneous as it has done with the workers. I warned King to dig no further. I told him
the planet would seek its revenge, and it has. Death will live in this island forever"
Oen listened silently, but it took her a much longer time to comprehend his words. As
soon as she could fathom this new concept, she knew her husband would die in 80 years, if not sooner. Oh, how she wished it would be instantaneous instead. At least she wouldn't be
mourning for eighty years of her life.
She felt it all crawling within her minds. The accident, the deaths, the enragement of the world, and even her king's hate of his daughter. Her breathing increased and her forehead beaded with sweat. Her heart was fluttering at an irregularly fast rater.
Priest rose and moved toward. The last thing she was his golden robes before the
world went dark.
Hmm. That chapter was a bit long, but oh well. It would have cotninued had I not cut it off so suddenly. Anyway, considering I have on reader so far, I don't think it matters that much lol. Thank you very much for the comment!
I did add a place from the game into this chapter, but I doubt I'll be doing it much more. Yeah, the cavern with the waterfall is supposed to be the same cavern you see in Ico.