I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.
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The Overworld Lake
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Prince Osiris,
I believe I have discovered the way to uncover the lost city of Kaizeph, the same city Humans have said is hidden in Lake Ken-i-Po. It would honor us, the High Muges of Perim, if you would grace us with your presence during the ritual I have prepared to bring the city to the surface.
The ritual will take place at noon on the summer solstice. If you are attending, please arrive at my tower on the dawn of that day.
Najarin, High Muge of the Lake
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High Muge Najarin,
Thank you for your invitation to what will likely be a momentous occasion. You can expect me to arrive at the appointed place and time.
Osiris, Prince of Al Mipedim
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A bright aurora hangs near-constantly over Lake Ken-I-Po, even during daylight hours. The lights are visible even from within Najarin's tower.
The tower itself is home to what might be the largest library of history in all of Perim. Scrolls, tomes, all kinds of written material can be found here. Books aren't the only pieces of the past, either. There are pottery, paintings, and sculptures as well. Artifacts from many time periods are all around me, from as ancient as ten thousand solans to within the last decade.
Lore, High Muge of the Hive, is admiring the newest of these artifacts: a statue built by the Danians depicting the last battle of the M'arrillian war. Specifically, the statue shows Aa'une, the M'arrillian terror, fighting me. It isn't a particularly accurate representation, either.
Aa'une is carved from dark blue stone, and portrayed slightly smaller than life, with grotesque features implying him to be a feral monster. Long, muscular arms are held over the head in a stereotypical "monster scare" pose, with curled hand ending in long claws. The torso is carved muscular to an exaggerated extent, and the face is frozen in a bestial snarl. Long tentacles splay around the base of the statue, about to encompass the other subject of the sculpture.
In stark contrast to Aa'une, the other subject is sculpted from white, marble-like stone. The statue is, of course, one of myself, though like Aa'une's not at all accurate. The statue is larger than life, and it displays a bulky physique that not only do I not possess, but would be near impossible for any Human to have. Hiding the statue's face is a horned helmet, and in its right hand is a long sword, piercing through the statue of Aa'une's chest and erupting out the other end.
What really bugs me is that the statue of me is, besides the helmet, completely naked, and that both statues display almost comically large erect "endowments".
I stand beside Lore and muse, "You know, I didn't have the helmet on when I killed Aa'une. And the weapon was more of a knife than a broadsword."
"Mm hm," is all I hear Lore say.
"Also, I didn't stab him." I point out on the statue as I speak, "The wound was a slice from collar to pelvis, and the killing blow was the removal of his heart."
"Yes... it was," Lore nods.
"And I wasn't naked," I mumble.
Lore grins. "But where is... the fun in... not making the story... more elaborate?" His body shudders, and he sighs loudly.
I stare at the Danian. "...Were you masturbating under your robes while looking at the statue of me, Lore?"
Lore winks at me. "Just finished."
I look for a different room to wait in.
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It's a little under an hour before noon, now. The High Muges and I are aboard the ship Ezoa, captained by the white cat-like Overworlder Arrthoa. He had finally arrived after sailing his ship upriver for many days.
Najarin, High Muge of the Lake, stands at the bow of the ship as it sails toward the center of the lake. His blue robes seem to be untouched by the wind, staying perfectly still in contrast with his long beard, which billows out behind him in the breeze.
Lore, High Muge of the Hive, has changed out of his simple black robes into an outfit that I can only describe as a shredded skirt, like a Hawaiian hula skirt made of strips of black cloth instead of grass. He sits at the stern, eyes closed in meditation.
Kopond, High Muge of the Hearth, is below decks. He's a pale white, vaguely demonic creature with long black hair, and wearing a bright red robe. I haven't spoken to him yet, and I don't think I'll get the chance. He looks like he'd rather nobody spoke with him.
Beside me, leaning on the starboard railing of the ship, is Enre-hep, High Muge of the Desert. He doesn't have his old rags anymore. Now he wears a pure white cloak with golden trim, far more suitable for someone of his status.
"Be careful around Najarin," Enre-hep suddenly says.
He doesn't need to tell me twice. "I know: he can be dangerous if crossed."
Enre-hep shakes his head, and he lowers his voice. "I'm not talking about that. He knows."
I feel a chill that has nothing to do with the cold wind. "How did he find out?"
Enre-hep clenches his teeth together. "Najarin has a habit of looking in to the minds of his visitors."
"He didn't look in my mind," I state. With all of my training against M'arrillian powers, I would have at least felt if someone was poking around in there.
"Mine," the Mipedian grimaces. "I was distracted, and Najarin saw the truth in my mind."
A split-second passes, and suddenly Najarin is standing in front of us. "Enre-hep," he says, his voice cold, "I trust you aren't trying to force your beliefs on our guest."
Enre-hep presses his lips together and looks to the right, towards the bow of the ship.
Najarin turns to me. "I must warn you that the Mipedian there seems to believe that reality is nothing but a dream. He may try to convince you that everything you see is something you've concocted up over the hours of a night. Do not let him fool you." The Overworld muge then turns and strides back to the bow of the ship.
"He's heavily in denial," Enre-hep whispers. "But he's afraid, too. That's why he didn't read your thoughts. He doesn't know what he'll see, nor what to do if I turn out to be right."
"'Be careful around Najarin,'" I echo.
It's not long before Arrthoa announces, "We have reached the center of the Lake!"
"Good," says Najarin as he turns and walks towards the center of the ship. "Now, everyone not participating in the ritual should go below deck. And send Kopond up as well."
"Now hold on there," Arrthoa growls, pointing a clawed finger at Najarin's chest. "If you think I'm going to let you have full run of my ship, then we are going to have problems. I can stay up top perfectly fine."
Najarin gives the captain an icy stare. "Can you hold perfectly still while the power of a ritual flows around you? Twitching even a hair in any direction may peel all the skin off your flesh. A hair more, and your bones could be all that remain as muscle and organs are minced to pieces by mugical energies." The muge spreads his arms. "If you can be motionless enough, you can remain above."
Captain Arrthoa stares at Najarin for a moment, slack-jawed, then turns and descends the stairs into the ship's hold. I'm quick to follow.
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Arrthoa, his crew, and I watch out the portholes of the ship. In the water's surface is reflected a violent storm of light, created by the ritual going on mere feet above our heads. Melodies drift through the air around us.
The lake is beginning to bubble. Large plumes of air rush to the surface, exploding at the surface and spraying the glass of the portholes with drops of water. The aurora above the lake is twisting and collecting above the ship.
A large bubble collides with the ship, tipping it a bit. I lose my balance and slide across the floor of the ship. The crew laughs a little as I scramble to my feet. Another bubble hits the ship, a larger one, and this time several of the crew tumble as well.
I make my way back to the window, and I'm just in time to see a tall spire erupt from the surface of the lake. The spire rises quickly, followed by a violent storm of energy at its base. The crew gasps, partly in awe, partly in fear.
Water showers down from the structure. Rising now are four stone pillars. The ship sways as enormous waves crash against it.
The sounds of the ritual vanish, and the hatch to topside opens. Najarin's voice calls out, "It's larger than we thought! We have to sail away before it crashes into us!"
To their credit, the crew does not panic. Arrthoa isn't even finished giving out orders before they rush to their stations and unfurl the sails.
I freeze on the stairs heading up. I know almost nothing about sailing a ship, I wouldn't be of any help up there.
"The wind currents are a mess!" one of the crew shouts. "The sails won't catch."
...I can help. "Enre-hep! You can fill the sails!"
Enre-hep puts his hands up in a confused gesture. "Only the strongest winds I am capable of creating can do that, and they would drain me too quickly to be of any help!"
He's talking about the attack Hurlicane, I'm sure of it. Normally that attack would deprive him of the ability to use any other air attacks for a while. Not this time, though. "Lake Ken-I-Po had a card in the game dedicated to the time when the ritual was lifting up Kaizeph! The card stated that creatures couldn't lose elements at that time and place!"
Enre-hep's eyes widen, and he turns to face the sails. He raises his arms up...
Huge, twisting spheres of cloud and wind appear behind each sail. The sails billow outward, and the ship lurches forward.
Lore's eyes light up, and he rushes towards the stern of the ship. He makes a motion as if grabbing a hold of the massive rising tower, and it shudders. Lore grunts with effort, and he calls out, "I can't stop it rising, but I can slow it down!"
Najarin stares down into the water. "We will make it, but barely! Everyone brace yourselves!"
I wrap my arms around the ship's railing. Arrthoa rushes to me with a rope. "You won't be able to hold on if it hits. Tie this around your waist. Not your stomach, your waist."
I begin to do so, but my hands slip on the rope. Arrthoa loses his patience and takes the rope from me before tying it himself. Then he ties the other end to the mast and ensures the other ropes there are also tied tightly.
"Impact with the stern in ten seconds," Najarin calls out.
The lake looks like it's boiling, now. Large structures are erupting from the surface behind us. I wrap my arms around the railing again-
BOOM!
The ship pitches forward, and I completely lose my grip on the railing. I feel weightless for a moment, and then I'm suddenly underwater. I grab for the rope and start pulling myself to the surface. My head breaks the surface, and I gasp for breath.
The sun is hidden behind a huge landmass floating in the air. Waterfalls pour from its sides. Light dances around it.
I hear joyous peals of laughter around me, from those creatures still in the ship and those who had fallen in the water. Arrthoa, a few feet in front of me, thrusts both his fists in the air and whoops before slipping under the water. He reappears moments later, climbing up his rope back onto the ship.
"Osiris!"
I look up. Enre-hep is leaning over the edge. I wave an arm over my head. "I'm okay!" I shout.
Maybe it's the adrenaline, but I start laughing as well. Laughing along with everyone else, except for a soggy Kopond, who is screaming with the most colorful vocabulary I have ever heard.
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Up next: The Lost City
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