"This is awkward…" Raolius rubbed the back of his head, and looked a bit sheepish.
"You know him? How could you possibly know him?" Changati asked with his head cocked at Raolius in dismay.
"He kicked my ass." Pryde responded and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
"Right… that would make it kind of an awkward meeting…" Mina, Mendoki, and Changati began rubbing the backs of their heads and looking away uncomfortably as well.
Pryde glared at the shamefaced, faintly blushing Raolius, his dark purple tiefling face bared sharp teeth when he bit his lower lip. "I swear." Mina groused, her ample breasts heaved when she sighed with exasperation before she marched over and grabbed Raolius by the back of his head and made him bow.
"Apologize! No bullying the weak!" She snapped out as he lurched forward and down at the waist with the force of her push.
'The weak?! Who the… oh… right… I didn't even bruise him while he made me nap for most of a week… I guess to him… wait she's manhandling him like a barbarian manhandles a tavern wench…' Pryde watched open mouthed as the demon-elf bowed to him.
Pryde's huge shoulders finally drooped. "Damnit… don't apologize. It was an honest fight and I lost. Still, I'd never been hit like that b'fore." His eyes narrowed briefly, then he shook his head with a sharp dismissal of his own private thoughts.
He stuck out his massive hand with a thrust, extending it between the two, and Mina released her hold, allowing Raolius to straighten up and linger with red eyes on the hand for a moment before he stuck out his own in turn. They clasped hands and shook.
They were two days on the road, gazing at the great high trees with endless fascination, often with fingers and toes twitching. 'Explore! Explore! Explore!' They knew the common thought with common glances in each other's eyes. Herded though, by Changati's steady leadership, his lingering hand on their shoulders when in various stops their feet began to carry them off to act on their urges, they drew back.
Pryde didn't fail to notice this, and when they were finally, briefly alone, he leaned forward, holding a hand out in between them he curled it toward himself, drawing them to lean in. They did so, and he whispered, "Listen, I keep seeing you all want to run off. Like you've never seen this kind of thing before. Are you from the Empire or something? I won't tell anyone, but if you can't keep yourselves under control, somebody will get suspicious."
"Empire?" Changati asked and looked to his comrades? They shrugged collectively. "What Empire?"
He kept his voice low while shaking his head in denial. "No… what empire?" His long elven ears twitched at a hint of new knowledge.
Pryde stared at them like they were morons. He cocked his head and spoke very slowly. "You know, the 'Newcomers' the ones from over the eastern sea, the ones who follow the undead?"
They bristled. "Undead… no, we don't follow any undead." Changati shook his head vigorously. "Why would you even suggest that?!" He hissed out the demand and his fingers tensed into a fist.
Pryde scratched his head, "Well, I just assumed, I mean you're stronger than you have any right to be while being unheard of." He hung his head briefly, "Listen, I'm no fan of the Newcomers, nobody is, but… I got beat fair and square, I figure I at least owe silence as a reward, if you really are followers of Ainz Ooal Gown…"
"Ainz Ooal Gown?!" The shout shot up from all their mouths at one go and they shot to their feet. Heads busy with other tasks all shot up and turned back to them. Workers dropped barrels, woodcutters dropped axes, merchants went pale and guards brought their weapons to bear with a snap at the moment they heard the name.
Changati looked around and slowly waved his hands, "No, no! Sorry, forgive me." he bowed repeatedly, and when eyes gradually looked away, they slowly sat back down.
Pryde looked at them open mouthed, jaw dropped fully at their response, "So you do know of him?" He finally managed to ask.
Mendoki furrowed her brow, "Sorry, ah, 'him'? The only Ainz Ooal Gown we know is a 'group' by that name. Who is 'he'?"
"The undead god over the sea, his followers are death worshippers, I don't know much myself, but about a century or so ago, he built up an empire over the sea, ruled from some mystical land called Nazarock or something. They bought land from this country generations ago, and it's been nothing but trouble ever since." Pryde answered while scratching his cheek. "I mean you want more details, go to a temple or something."
"What's it look like? Any idea?" Raolius felt his stomach start to churn and worried, fragile expressions marked by bitten lips followed his asking.
"Some kind of crazy skeleton from what I hear, you can get more from a priest if you find one, they occasionally sneak over the border to try to win converts. That doesn't last, not mostly anyway." Pryde shrugged off the ominous statement, but they barely registered it.
"Ex-Excuse us a moment." Changati hopped out of the cart and snapped "I need to talk to my team in private."
Mendoki, Raolius, and Mina followed after without a moment's hesitation and they wandered a few feet into the woods.
"Momonga." They said as soon as they were alone and facing one another.
Changati put his hands on his hips and began to tap his foot repeatedly, "He's here. He has to be. There's no way this is a coincidence. And an empire? Ok this is bad, Ainz Ooal Gown was one of the most vindictive and vicious of the heteromorphic guilds. If Momonga is here and built an empire? It's no wonder people reacted that way when we shouted the guild name… well I guess he took the guild name as his own."
Mina shuddered, "A tyrant. You don't have an empire without tyranny, and if it's a religious tyranny, that's even worse."
Jaws clenched and stayed so for Mina, Mendoki, and Raolius… but Changati relaxed quickly. "He took the name of the guild for himself, that means something, back in the day his guild was great. It was powerful. But the last I heard, he was all that was left. I wonder… you know, could he be here alone?"
That saw their faces drop, staring at the ground in thought. Raolius however, squared himself off a moment later and crossed his arms. "It does not matter. Not even a little. If he's set himself up as an Emperor, I want nothing to do with him. Let him stay alone. Let him die alone."
Mina tapped her foot and stroked her chin, "You know, If he came here like us, with his avatar and equipment, well… I think I could see people thinking he was a god. If what we're seeing around us is normal, well everything is really, really weak. We could do the same thing… I guess."
Hard stares and silence were companions as they glared at her. She blushed and waved her hands frantically in front of her. "I didn't mean we should!" She stamped her foot when their stares ebbed. "You should know better. I'm just saying it could be done."
"I'd say it's what he did… but you know, if Momonga took the name of his guild, he must have been hoping he'd be found by others, people from our world… Maybe we should go talk to him?" Mendoki looked around, doubting downward looks refused to meet her eyes.
"Did you ever hear the story of the scholar who was invited to dine with an emperor?" Changati asked with a weak, fragile half smile.
Heads shook slowly.
"He asked the emperor if a turtle should attend a dinner invitation if the dinner is to be turtle soup." Changati replied, holding out his hands open in front of them, inviting them to embrace his truth.
"Right… we may go in, who knows if we'll come out. Well we should find out more, learn something about his empire from the locals, and maybe… maybe that will help determine if we should talk to him at least. Who knows, maybe everything will work out?" Mendoki asked with a pleasant smile spread over her optimistic face.
The next Lumase presented himself before the King in private first. A man of pure white hair and wearing a white robe, his color pallid as if he had not seen the sun in years. He appeared at the door of the quarters of the king in the dead of night. The armor of the two guards clinked lightly in the silence as they knelt with their halberds clasped in their left hands. They bowed their heads to the prophet and his pearl white eyes. He opened his hands to them. "I come to the king." He whispered gently and then his hands fell to their shoulders. "Blessed are you, men of good heart, who guard him with all that you are."
Power surged through their bodies, their grips on the wooden hafts of their halberds grew so tight that the wood cracked within the grip of their fingers. Skin grew goosebumps and their hairs stood on end. Their youthful faces came up to gaze at him in awe. "We are blessed, that we are here to see you on your first coming to our king…"
"As I am blessed, to serve the king who serves his people… so are we all." Lumase whispered, and yet despite the whisper, his words seemed like thunder from a clear sky. He reached out and opened the door and passed through it unopposed. The door closed behind him.
The king's chamber was not richly decorated, the bed was a simple one with four posts, one at each corner, and made of simple wood. It was smoother than most things at least, and rose to a spear shaped tip at the top. The mattress itself was simple as well, essentially a wooden frame covered with layers of furs, with the topmost being that of a black bear's pelt.
The pelt of a brown bear lay over top of that, serving as a blanket. King Malthus Nai slept soundly, his face lightly dusted with the beginnings of a black beard he would likely dispose of so no part of his face was hidden from his people. His broad, scarred chest went up and down. Laying against him was Byron, whose smaller frame belied the strength of his body. As Lumase looked down at them through sightless eyes, he knew them nonetheless. He reached out with a soft hand and touched the cheek of the king, the memories of the last Lumase swam to the surface and broke through. "My boy… my King… I am here…"
Eyes fluttered open in the darkness as Malthus responded to the voice. "Lumase… no… you're the new Lumase…" He whispered softly in the dark, the white eyes of the prophet glowed faintly, ghostlike and hovering over the King.
The pale face of Lumase became more visible to King Malthus as his eyes adapted to the dark, and he saw enough to see the small, tender smile on the face of the priest. 'Fatherly. Just like his predecessor…' Malthus thought with a faint shimmer briefly clouding his eyes in the dark.
Lumase's hand wiped away the forming tear in the king's eyes. "None of that…" He whispered, "I am the new Lumase… I am the old Lumase… I am every Lumase back to the beginning, the power of prophecy is now yours again. The man who died in the throne room, is as much me as I was myself when I watched his passing. Give the order, King over the Ongeku, and I will bring the possible futures into the given present."
Malthus slid gently out of his bed, the faint rustling of the furs was slight, less than their whispered words while he gently disengaged himself from Byron's arms. "Outside… I exhausted Byron tonight," a faint look of masculine pride crossed his face in the form of a slightly smug smile, "and I'd rather let him sleep." He stretched out and reached for his robe.
He slipped it on with a slight rustling, the rough dark fabric scratched over his skin in the familiar and comfortable way it always did and he bound the knot tightly with a firm jerk.
Byron murmured something unintelligible, his arms moving over the spot the king had abandoned, his head rubbing softly next to where his lover had been.
Malthus looked away, over to the glowing white eyes. "I'm ready." He uttered solemnly, his own eyes briefly closing and taking a deep breath. Lumase didn't answer, he simply walked to the door and opened it, the King followed, the guards made to move, but Malthus stopped and raised a hand behind him before they could follow. "Stay here. Guard my quarters, if there were danger, Lumase would have warned me."
They traded briefly looks with one another, then resumed their posture at his door, guarding the lone sleeper within as if he were the king.
They went to a set of winding stone steps and descended, Malthus heard his own footfalls echoing off the wall on either side, the faint scrape of his bare, rough feet against stone. But Lumase's feet might as well have been feathers, he made no sound that the sharp ears of the king could detect. Were it not for the faint glow of candles in sconces on the walls that cast shadows against them both, Malthus might have wonder if Lumase could float.
Finally they reached the bottom where a heavy door with a rounded shape at the top awaited them. He pushed the handle down and opened it up to a garden in full bloom. Dark purple flowers turned toward the faint sound, only to droop in sleep again when no insect came to reward their attempt at drawing attention. Rich and vibrant reds bobbed lightly in the breeze, and near the center a fountain babbled and the flow of water alone spoke to them in its own endless speech.
"I love this place." Lumase said and reached out to touch a flower. His fingers traced over the faint soft feeling of a blue rose petal, causing the flower to bend and bob that continued for several seconds when he withdrew his touch.
"You? Or the past you?" Malthus asked as he sat on the stone wall of the round fountain, with the moonlight casting it's light down to be broken through the streaming waters.
Lumase folded his hands together in front of himself. "We've had this talk… the last one of me, and yourself. You know how it is, my King. No one life can contain prophecy, it is inconceivable, this is what we must do. Give up our eyes for sight, and pass our lives and selves from one generation to the next, that is the price the gods demand for a mere man to give life to the future in the present. I am your Lumase, and the last one to the king before you, and to the one before him, all the way back to the Lumase who planted this garden for the boy who would be king. He loved that boy, and even removed from us both by centuries, he loved you too, as do I."
Lumase crouched down and brought his hands to cup the cheeks of the king, and kissed his forehead, "That is what drives us, what has always driven us…" Lumase's smile was fragile, trembling, and then he howled in sudden pain. He fell to his knees, clutching at his forehead and Malthus instinctively reached out to grab him and pull him into an embrace.
Lumase howled and howled as the pain of a brain on fire ripped him apart from the inside, until at last the screaming stopped and his white robe was rendered almost transparent by the thick sweating of his body. He heaved with every breath and swallowed hard before he began to speak.
"Bones given flesh bring opportunity to steal the greatest of treasures, a captive born of terror brings war, join hands with allies before it comes, or the garden will die forever…" Lumase barely got the words out, he let his head grow limp, and felt the strong and powerful arms of his king holding him through the pain.
They remained that way for several hours, till the moon disappeared and the sun began to rise. Neither spoke until Malthus felt the rays of the morning sun on his back, "You OK, old man?"
"I'm not much older than you… you know." Lumase murmured as he finally began to get the strength to stand and after bracing himself on Malthus's shoulders, he forced himself up to both feet.
"You can't have it both ways, old man. You want to be every Lumase, then you're the oldest man." Malthus smirked, "Thank you… thank you for this first prophecy, I hope you live to pass them on to my son in a hundred years."
Lumase chuckled and followed the king to the exit of the garden. "Go, eat breakfast with Byron, I'm sure he's awake and wondering where you are."
Malthus gave a sharp nod while he reached for the door handle. "See, you sound like an old man already, but that is good advice. When you go in, stop by the scribe and send him to my office, then you go get some rest. I know how difficult prophecy is. Keep up your strength."
"And you, my King?" Lumase asked when the King let out a loud yawn and they began to ascend the steps.
"Me? I need to send out letters to the other kingdoms to ask for help, if we're going to fend off a grim tomorrow, we need to work together today. If we fail, it won't just be the end of the Ongeku, but the end for everyone. And I can't speak for the other kings, but we're not prepared to go that easily, or quietly if we have to go at all."