Chapter 142:
The metal door swung open and two men entered the room. Laxus immediately rose to his feet, putting himself between Irena and the bars of the cage. Laxus's brow furrowed as he sized them up. The first of them was a large man, his eyes glittering with a strange sort of gleam, his hair braided, the end of which was twisted into a knot over his head. The other, was a shorter but still well put-together man. Magic runes circled his wrists, wrists that Laxus could see when he reached for the door, key in hand.
Wizards, he surmised, and although he didn't know them, he remembered their faces from the day he'd stood on the mezzanine overlooking the congregation. These men were stronger than the majority of those in the pews, but right now they were all powerless aside from their fists. It wouldn't have be suspected at a glance, though, as they gave no extra care or attention to the way they threw open the barred door and stepped to the side, gruffly ordering Laxus to follow them. He refused to budge.
"What about her?" Laxus demanded, nodding his head back towards Irena.
The main with braided hair shrugged, his lip curling up slightly, "She stays."
"She comes with me." He stated, and crossed his arms for good measure. There was no room in his voice for question, and yet the man before him smirked.
"You ain't in the position to be making demands," he sneered, and motioned towards the door with his head, "Now move."
"Why don't you come in here and make me." Laxus said evenly, clenching his fists at his sides.
It was the silent flash of the knife that had Irena at his side, her blue eyes horrified, "I'm fine, really. Go with them, Laxus."
"What?" he scoffed, "And leave you here? In the dark?"
"It's not dark. Not completely," she muttered, all but pushing him towards the door at this point. He opened his mouth to protest but he caught her gaze again. She had a fiery look to her, and also a twist to her lips that clearly told him she thought he was being more than a little stupid, "Go, Laxus."
He frowned, studying her, "I'll come back."
"Of course," she replied, her tone sharp.
He tried not to flinch when he heard the door slam shut, the cold click of the bolt sliding into place. He watched the man slip the key ring into his pocket. How cliche, he thought as he followed the shorter of the two out the door. He thought Orotrushit would be waiting for him, but was surprised to see a young chameleon there. His size, the pattern of his scales, told him he was the same sort as Erandi, and he held a torch in his hand to light the passage. His eyes widened slightly to see him, and his shoulders sank, his body tensed. His eyes dodged to the other two wizards who smirked to each other at the boy's discomfort.
"He's all yours," the larger of the two said, shoving Laxus's shoulder.
Laxus turned and punched him in the face, belatedly realizing how bad of an idea it was.
"Don't fucking touch me." Laxus spat.
The wizard's comrade cackled as he wiped at his lip, a dark look in his eyes. He didn't retaliate, much to Laxus's relief. Given it was just the three of them, it would have been relatively easy to fight his way out even with just his fists. But should the chameleon run and get help, Laxus was sure there'd be a problem. He didn't think they'd kill him, but he didn't want to push his luck, either. Orotrushit was a scary bastard who enjoyed torture. Maybe Laxus was needed as a sacrifice, but he didn't know what condition that entailed. He'd do better in a fight later with his skin on.
He followed quietly after the chameleon who didn't even acknowledge the exchanged, and only glanced back once to notice the two wizards were leaning on either side of the door, muttering amongst themselves. There were more of them as they left, milling about, not particularly doing anything aside from shooting the two of them glares and whispering. They were all armed. Laxus gritted his teeth as he remembered they were there waiting for Gajeel to come and save him. He swallowed past the worry which had gathered beneath his adam's apple and concentrated on the way ahead.
Laxus followed his guide down a narrow passage that angled up steeply. It was dark and there were no sconces for more torches. If there had been, Laxus surely would have hit his head on them. Through the bright flickering of the flames, he caught the glint of something ahead of them. Another door, this one blending in almost seamlessly into the rest of the wall, given away solely by the rusted, metal handle which the boy struggled to pull. It gave with a shudder and a nasty scape of stone on stone, carving chalky white marks against the ground. Not very functional, Laxus thought, but if you were as strong as Orotrushit, perhaps it didn't need to be. Clearly, this was meant to be hidden... but why?
His question was answered when he was met with a heavy curtain, which was pulled back, revealing sudden, unexpected brightness.
The oppressive dark was scattered by a soft, ethereal glow emanating from the walls around them. The boy motioned him to follow, and now that Laxus could see him better, he realized he was a bit older than he'd previously thought. His arms had been scarred similarly to Davian and his brother, though they stopped at his elbows and wreathed his shoulders. From what Laxus could see of his bared skin, it didn't appear he had any on his chest. His ears were pierced with large, thorn-like plugs that looked sharp enough to draw blood. The man muttered something, and though Laxus realized what he said was familiar to him he couldn't quite grasp the meaning of it. If only he'd begun helping Levy translate sooner...
The narrow, damp corridor widened and Laxus felt a breeze of fresh air. His curiosity piqued. He could scent flowers and damp earth as they approached yet another doorway covered by a curtain, this one shimmering in the dim light as the man slipped the torch into a sconce carved from the stone itself. A grinning face of some sort of creature, a bat perhaps, with wings unfurled around its sharp-toothed face. The man pulled back the curtain, spilling them from the tunnel and into a massive cavern. Laxus's breath caught in his throat.
The first thing that struck him was the light. Bioluminescent plants crawled up the walls and sprawled across the ceiling, creating an ambient glow that danced off crystalline formations embedded in the rock. Large columns stretched to a distant ceiling, carved with animals of the rainforest, hunters, and flora. Waterfalls cascaded from heights that disappeared into darkness. Clear water trickled in glistening streams of liquid silver as they fell into serene cave ponds below. Large white fist clustered over smooth rocks, resting in the thin current of the shallow pools. The sound of flowing water chattered and whispered around them, mingling with distant, rhythmic drumming. It was calming. It was beautiful.
His guide eyed him warily before nodding in a direction where tunnels spindled out from them in labyrinthine directions; some opened to more gentle light beyond, and others disappearing into darkened forever. They went through a winding staircase and he found himself standing on a bridge connecting to different levels of a city. Homes were carved into a rock face with balconies overflowing with plants and colorful clothing strung out to dry. Tapestries hung over railings, flags of brilliant, woven fabric which hung open in the windless damp of cavern air. Mosaics and frescoes brought riots of colors here and there where warm light effused from curtained doorways. Each level connected to the next with a series of bridges and stairs extending down several levels, probably deeper than he had been back in his cell, and also spiraling up far above. He felt immensely small as he looked around him, an ant standing in a sprawling rabbit's warren. How many people lived here? Certainly, more than Magnolia, maybe even more than the capitol.
Laxus was then led to a vast open space surrounded by towering pyramidal temples, a style reminiscent of the step pyramids but clearly newer. A harkening to a time lost. A central plaza. Again, he found his breath leaving him. The structures towered around them like sentinels, higher than any building he'd seen made by wizards, grander than even the colosseum where they'd fought in the Grand Magic Games. At some great distance above, where the bioluminescent plants gave way to stone, there were pinpricks of light like stars. Each step of the pyramids blended seamlessly into the smooth face of stone which was weathered glossy-smooth by thousands of years of water passing. They were carved in vivid relief, boasting colorful murals of gods, heroes, and celestial alignments, inlaid with precious stones and lined with painted gold. The largest pyramid, at the heart of the plaza, had a staircase that seemed to reach the very roof of the cavern, where a large opening allowed a single, unbroken shaft of sunlight to pierce through, illuminating a jade statue with outstretched arms.
The fine hairs at the nape of Laxus's neck danced as he took in the visage of a chameleon that had a startling resemblance to Davian. A large, voluminous headdress of feathers and braided hair tumbled gracefully down his shoulders and back to brush the floor. In his hand, as if leading a war charge, was the sword of sharpened obsidian that had come for Laxus's throat not but a few hours ago. He was shirtless, displaying scars painted with gold and eyes that glared down, a wicked sneer of a mouth curving upward in silent victory. The carving was horrible in its detail, looking as if the man would step down from his pedestal at any moment to raise his serrated obsidian blades for Laxus again. His guide made a sign of respect, not raising his gaze higher than the ground as they passed.
All around the statue were tributes of food, wine, fruits, and even gold. Pottery held goods or were smashed on the brick at its feet. A man who resembled his guide, another of the Yahual, was gathering them, sifting through to determine the usable from the rabble, and placing items each in two wagons accordingly. He stopped and stared at them as they passed, worry etching across his features. He, too, made the sign. Unnerved, Laxus looked ahead and ignored the blind gaze of the statue as they walked onward towards a large archway where the sounds of voices carried in muted echos.
Warmer light glowed from the passage, and Laxus sniffed the air. Pungent spice pricked his nose and he caught sight of figures walking past the tunnel. Laughter sailed towards them alongside the sounds of conversation. Two chameleons flanked the entrance, Rut's kind, the Yaoyo. They watched steadily as the two of them passed. One of them spoke to his guide who shot Laxus an uneasy look.
"I won't run," he said, sure of the implication even if he didn't understand the words.
"K'inno almo," the other guard leaned towards him, and he was surprised to hear a feminine voice, "The market."
Laxus frowned. K'inno he knew because it was the name of one of the temples, sun. What puzzled him was almo, which he thought meant soul. Unless, it also meant something else. He wasn't an expert on Oumic by any stretch. His guide was leaving, though, and he doubted they'd understand his questions if he asked. The two Yaoyo followed close behind despite his reassurance.
Despite the fact they were underground and he was surrounded by a large amount of people, it felt open and airy. The stalls they passed were brimming with an array of goods. Foods stewed and fried in hot oil. Baked breads and pastries rested fresh for sale and barter. A woman broke eggs into corn and stirred the hot mixture, the scent making his stomach press ruefully against his spine. Fruits and berries of the rainforest sat in carts, catching his eye. There was a man heaping freshly picked beans into a basket. Laxus's mouth watered. It had been a while since he'd last eaten, and his body leapt at the chance to remind him.
The wide hand of the Yaoyo on his shoulder made him freeze. She motioned to a cart of red fruits he'd been staring at.
"You want?" she asked.
"No... thanks," he shrugged her off, finding the kind gesture more than a little strange.
There were textiles and tapestries, those curtains he'd grown to recognize as doorways, intricately crafted jewelry, and pottery. Artisans were at work while customers perused, and Laxus was surprised to notice most of them, especially older craftsmen, were human. They nodded at him as he passed, an odd reverence to the way they regarded him. He didn't understand why. He especially didn't understand why everyone parted at his approach, why many made that sign of respect.
The tink-tink of delicate metal jingling against each other drew Laxus's attention. A woman was standing beside one of the stalls. At first, Laxus glanced past her. Against the moving bodies of dark skin, of blue scales, she shifted in and out of the shadows seamlessly. The gleam of her silver circlet caught his eye, inset with small, black opals which caught in the light and winked with each shadow that passed over her. A veil of dark midnight cascaded over her shoulders, obscuring her features. It held a subtle shimmer, deep and inky as the void of night as if it absorbed the light around it. She lifted her arms and it rippled like liquid. Her features were cast in shadow, but still he could see the faint gleam of her eyes like distant stars in the darkness.
Gazing at her reminded him of ghost stories where women in black stole the souls of men through venomous lips. He expected her to smile and reveal rows of bloody teeth, but she merely watched him unmoving, unblinking. The longer he stared at her, the more he felt untethered, adrift in an unfathomable void absent of air, of wind, of even sound. His mind conjured the picture of a forest of crows, croaking out an omen of ending. Dark snakes slithering across silver stones. An anaconda swallowing a deer whole. He heard the echo of a woman's sobs in the distance, growing stronger, hitching up into a vengeful wail-
"K'inno almo," the Yaoyo woman said to him softly. He flinched, tearing his eyes from the woman in black to look at her. She motioned to the stall next to him, "You want?"
"N-no..." he muttered, "I just-"
Laxus's skin crawled. When he looked back to the woman and black, she was gone. He clicked his teeth and hurried to catch up to his guide.
Beyond the market, carved shelves of stone extended into the distance. Terraced farms with crops growing in carefully irrigated tiers. The ingenuity was astounding. Every bit of available space and light was used, and the beds were full with September's yield. There were figures busy at work, tending to the plants. Even from so far away, he saw how they stopped and stared. One chameleon sat on a ledge, taking a short reprieve as he wiped sweat from his brow with the hem of his tunic. As they passed, Laxus noticed he took a thorn and pricked his ear absently. One pearl of blood welled and dripped to the dark earth.
There was an amphitheater, though his guide didn't draw too close. Still, Laxus heard the sounds of music and chanting. He glimpsed dancers in costume, masks and headdresses of every color imaginable, spinning ribbons and banners and bodies twisting into complicated and graceful shapes, moving to the rhythm of drums, flutes, and bells. There was an energy to the performance, but it was lost to Laxus at this distance. The flickering of the light against the cave-like floors reminded him of the colorful fires Natsu would breathe during Fairy Tail's parades. In the back of his mind, he wondered if he'd ever see the hot-tempered kid again. He promptly shrugged off the thought.
Finally, they appeared to be reaching where they were headed. A grand palace, a sprawling complex of stone pillars and expansive courtyards. Golden statues and intricate mosaics adorned the walls, depicting the Aurincarae, Oros, the Sphynx and her goddess, and so many others. He even saw the dark figure of Tzopilotl, His jade visage and black vulture feathers, standing on a stack of skulls, His face an angry grimace as He watched coyotes devouring a body in the desert. Laxus couldn't help it, he turned in a circle as he walked after his guide, marveling at its beauty, at the craftsmanship. The palace exuded power and timelessness, a residence for the ruler of a thriving society. Laxus glimpsed a vacant throne, and beyond it, the arched portals to the world above ground, shrouded in an overgrowth of vines and trees.
He was so utterly confused. When Davian spoke of the underground, he had made it sound derelict. He'd imagined human-shaped lizards crouching in cold darkness, catching cave crickets and blind fish from the streams. He'd pictured feral men, more animal than anything else, fighting for survival down here. These people were thriving. Could all of this been achieved while Davian was gone? Could all of this... have been Orotrushit's doing? His mind reeled at the possibility.
Through a doorway of pure light, his guide lead him out to a place Laxus found vaguely familiar. The Temples of the Sun and Moon, though he hadn't been on this side of it, loomed over the trees, the ruins covered by vines and ferns and rainforest. The bleached bones of an empire. Here was what he had been picturing when Davian spoke of his home. The broken architecture of a once proud city, fields and gardens drunk with rain that breathed out white fog. The large figures of the Yaoyo shifted through the ruined courtyard. They'd taken him above ground?
Children laughing caught his attention. A small girl with dark eyes and freckled cheeks was chased by a larger boy. Human women wearing black stood close by, watching with keen eyes for trouble. He recognized them, he realized, as priestesses from the Madame's caravan. A group of men talked under fruiting trees, their mouths full of the sharp teeth of lions. Ramou was among them. Beside them, a large golden body with great wings lounged on its side. Laxus's heart jumped into his throat as she swiveled her head around to gaze at him.
"The Sphynx," he breathed. She blinked at him slowly, reaching out into the grass with her massive clawed hands, and laid back down again.
There was a group of human men, one of them strikingly older than the rest, yet holding that same vagary of age that Madame Guéneva had. He wore white and embroidered onto his shirt was a red sun. He did a double take as he met Laxus's eyes, a frown creasing his features. His eyes glinted as he slumped against his cane.
A group of women sheltered together beneath a willow tree. A shroud of dark bark and long, serpentine branches hissed quietly against each other with each gentle card of the wind, obscuring their figures from him and revealing them again. They smiled with mischief, flirtatious and beautiful where they leaned against the wall; all of them whispering amongst each other. One in particular was watching him, the ringlets of her ebony hair curtaining over the alabaster of breasts. An intricate bodice of black silk and dark leather accentuated her figure. Silver threads caught in the light when she moved.
The entire courtyard was teeming with people sheltering from the rain. He stood, taking them all in, and the energy which lingered over them like a great, oppressive cloud. Witches, shamans, priests and priestesses and their avatars, people across Fiore who believed the same way that Davian and Orotrushit believed. Why? For the Equinox? For Gajeel's death...?
He heard again the tink-tink of metal. The woman in black was standing behind the women sheltered under the willow tree, watching him. She was both motionless and moving in a silent dance, like the wan ghosts about a funeral pyre. Her body rolled like a snake's, a ripple on a pond, supple and sinuous. She lifted an arm, lithe and beckoning, and the shroud which covered her face glittered. He could see more of it now, how it was encrusted with fine white crystals which hemmed the veil in vibrant white that grew scarcer as it climbed up the midnight curtain. The fabric of her skirt flowed in layers of dark, gossamer that shifted like tendrils of smoke against her skin and trailed in a long, flowing train which vanished around the corner like dark mist. Her skirt shifted, parting almost sensually, and his mind didn't understand at first why he didn't see the flash her thighs beneath the parting silk. Iridescent scales glinted with hints of sliver and midnight blue.
"K'inno almo."
Laxus jumped. The Yaoyo woman gave him a sympathetic look and motioned towards a curtained doorway.
"This way."
Laxus swallowed hard as he looked back to where the woman in black had been. The four women stared at him, all hint of their previous humor gone, replaced by preternatural beauty and eyes narrowed with suspicion. One of them crossed one leg over the other, causing her dress to slip back and reveal the tattoo of a screaming medusa. Each of them smiled at him, a look like they knew some deep, awful secret about him and they were dying to scream it to the heavens.
Dread came over him like a breath, but he did his best to hide it. In the way he had seen Davian regard Madame Guéneva, Laxus placed his fist against his open palm and bowed at the waist. When he rose, the insidious grins were gone, replaced by the teeth-bearing smiles of women charmed by his performance.
Assuming he had done something right, though not sure what or why, he followed his guide into the compound.
The room they led him to was nice. There was a plush bedroll on the ground. Reliefs of Oros and his open mouth snaked across the wall. There was a carpet of leopard skin on the floor, staving off the damp chill. A small altar with incense waiting for use. In the corner was hung several long sheeves of fabric, what Laxus recognized to be what most of the chameleons wore. He remembered Rut showing Davian how to wrap it around himself. His eyes trailed across to a table with wrapped soaps, perfumes, what appeared to be make up, black oils, charcoal, and gold paint. There was an open container of ocher the color of red clay. On another table next to the curtain, a bowl was heaped with fresh fruit.
His guide said something quietly, his tone unsure. Laxus turned to see him wringing his hands together. The Yaoyo woman motioned to the room.
"You like?" she asked.
"I... I'm confused," Laxus said, and the two exchanged a look, "Why did you bring me here?"
"You... want?" she tried.
Laxus let out a tense breath. He rubbed at the tight spot that was beginning to form between his brows. He frowned, trying to remember something, anything that might be useful. Gajeel had said draconic was similar to Oumic, and often Laxus found some words sounded similar. Maybe he could piece something together... why hadn't he started translating with Levy sooner?!
"Why..." he began, stopped, huffed, "Why... bring... here?"
The Yaoyo cocked her head slightly, her reptilian eyes glinting at him, "K'inno almo."
Sun soul... sun soul... what the fuck did that mean?
He muttered through a few more syllables before finally stringing together what he thought meant, "What is K'inno almo?"
His guide gave him a nervous look up and down, "Sacrifice."
Oh.
Things snapped into focus. He remembered Davian had spoken of how sacrifices lived amongst his people. They lived well until the day they died, given anything they could want, because they were offering themselves to feed the gods. A high honor. Because he had offered his life, he was brought here to live comfortably for the few hours he had left. Which also explained why none of them had been worried he'd run.
He wasn't a prisoner, he was an honored guest.
"Ah..." Laxus replied, eloquently, "Where's Orotrushit?"
At that, they both appeared alarmed. Language barriers aside, that name was universal.
His guide shook his head, rambled off something while holding his hands aloft placatingly. The Yaoyo at his side replied, "He is working."
"Working?" Laxus asked, trying not to sound agitated, "Take me to him."
The Yaoyo snorted and hissed, backing away and dropping the curtain. When Laxus tried to follow, his guide raised his hands and shook his head.
"Stay... um... want?"
"I want Orotrushit." he stated calmly. Again, the man shook his head.
"No, no. Ah...!" his eyes lit up as if he'd just gotten a grand idea. He smiled, "I get."
"...yes..." Laxus said, suspicious that he wasn't going to get Orotrushit at all and was just trying to get him to drop it, "Get him, please."
"Yes," he spoke slowly, loudly, making large motions with his hands to reiterate what he was saying, "Stay. I get."
Before he left, he lifted a fruit and offered it to him. Laxus hesitated, and the man smiled again, rubbing his stomach and making a show of going mmm. Laxus took it, unamused as he realized this man thought he was an idiot. Probably deserved, if he were honest. He was asking for the High Priest that everyone notoriously avoided.
The chameleon seemed pleased, and with one more slow, exaggerated promise of I get, he dropped the curtain and hurried away. Laxus took a deep breath through his nose and let it whistle through his teeth. He stood there for exactly five seconds before he threw open the curtain and walked back out into the misty evening.
He approached the first face he recognized, "Ramou."
"Ah! You found your people," he grinned, showing his unsettling teeth, "Good for you, friend. Did you become satisfied?"
He was now standing next to the elderly man in white who was still rubbing something in his hands like a worry-stone. There was a younger man at his side who stopped in the middle of his sentence. He looked Laxus up and down nervously, but smiled in that way only someone accustomed to dealing with tricky conversations could. He fidgeted with the end of his ponytail. The beads of his hat wiggled and made shadows dance across his face.
"I'm looking for someone," Laxus said, steamrolling right through the question as if he hadn't heard it. Motion behind Ramou caught his attention. The Sphynx looked at him again, but made no move to stand. Her presence made Laxus uneasy.
Ramou appeared confused, his smile tightening. His honey-colored eyes flashed towards the elderly man who frowned sharply. Laxus could tell they were having some silent conversation about him, and it took all his self-control not to call them out on it. The younger man thrust out his hand.
"Apologies, we have not met," he smiled, motioning first to the man at his side, "This is Papá Ohmara, shaman of the Auré. I am Tieyah, but Tai, for short. Shaman in training. We are from southeast of here, by the Pannoque mountain."
Hastily, Laxus took his hand and shook it, "Laxus Dreyar. I'm in a hurry."
"A wizard?" Tieyah said, astounded. Laxus furrowed his brow, "I, ah, I mean... wizards aren't common here..."
The elderly man said something lowly and Tieyah winced a bit.
Ramou's keen eyes narrowed. He gave the dragon slayer an appraising look, his cat-like eyes sweeping across Laxus in one languid stroke. Laxus got the profound sense he was missing something important. More importantly, though, he needed to find Orotrushit. He'd promised Gajeel he'd get the High Priest on his side, and he would... somehow. But first he needed to track him down.
"I'm looking for the High Priest, Orotrushit," he pressed on.
"You do not see him yourself?" Ramou asked.
Laxus opened his mouth to speak, but swallowed it instead. He didn't mean a cursory look around the garden.
"Should I?"
"Yes," Ramou gave him a practiced, closed-lipped smile, "Easily."
"And if I don't?"
Ramou swept his arm outwards, ushering Laxus to step closer. He placed a hand on his back, leaning in as if to tell Laxus some dark secret.
"You know, I am a problem-solver by nature, but I just can't wrap my head around you, my friend," he smiled in that sly way that made Laxus's stomach twist, "You perceive messages from the gods, a gift unheard of in wizards, and when the gods send you a message, you not only open yourself to receive them, but you do not hesitate to respond. Twice I find you in strange places not meant for wizards. And here..." he tapped Laxus's chest with two fingers, a contemplative noise easing out of his throat, "You have changed, haven't you? Was it enlightening? Did you even notice?"
Papá Ohmara spoke again, his eyes flashing in a familiar, reptilian way. Teiyah hesitated but noticed Laxus was staring. His face flushed a bit.
"He says you do not have the spirit of a great beast..." Teiyah explained and shook his head, "I am sorry. I do not know what that means."
"He is right, you know," Ramou said, "Certainly not the spirit of a beast. But is it the spirit of a man?"
Laxus wanted to ask what he meant, but thought better of it. He'd never looked into Ramou or the Sphynx's motives, but they were all out for themselves, weren't they? Asking questions of Orotrushit was dangerous, and hadn't it also been when asking the Madame? The Sphynx had helped him, but she had also attacked him. Ramou liked Levy, yes, but that didn't mean he was Laxus's friend. In fact, he had said so himself in the archives. We aren't exactly friends, you and I. And then there was Papá Ohmara and Teiyah but... didn't Gajeel mention something about the Auré...?
Laxus's mind was spinning. It must have shown on his face.
"Your elder is doing a poor job of teaching you. But I suppose if you've made it this far, you must be quite canny, or else, extremely lucky." Ramou's pupils narrowed, catlike and cunning. He leaned back and crossed his arms, considering something.
"You are… a problem-solver?" Laxus asked, keeping his tone neutral, "Not a riddler?"
"Ha!" Ramou barked a laugh, his eyes crinkling in genuine mirth, "The mind is a maze, and the riddle is the map to navigate its labyrinthine corridors."
"You could have just said you did both." Laxus wrinkled his nose.
Ramou chuckled heartily, gaining the eyes of people around them and making Tai jump. He sighed, wiping a nonexistent tear from his eye, "It is so good for you that I am not a man of politics. It is a weakness of mine. But – forgive me another quote – ah, weak men cannot handle power. It will either crush them, or they'll use it to crush others."
"I could really get somewhere if someone around here would speak plainly," Laxus muttered, frowning. Again, Ramou laughed.
"It is our nature, wizard. Don't hold it against me. Come," he waved him closer, "Look around you, friend. I pose to you, not a riddle, but a conundrum, yes?"
Laxus leaned down to him, and Ramou dropped his voice again.
"Do you think we enjoy being in the shadow of the temples? I am not a priest of the sun nor the moon. I follow Dihasis, a goddess of wisdoms. What do I care for gold, jade, and pretty feathers, hm?" he asked, and then nodded towards the Papá Ohmara and Tai, "Shamans of the Auré, a people who notoriously despise the children of Oros."
"Th-that is history," Tai raised his hands placatingly, "We have no quarrel with your people, great wizard. Truly. Papá, I am told, is of your line himself. These are old wars, not recent."
"My people..." Laxus muttered, again trying to betray nothing, "You follow Dhesayar."
"Yes," Teiyah smiled, motioning towards the red sun embroidered on his chest with its beautiful blue beads in complex patterns around it, "A longstanding tradition."
"Doesn't Dhesayar despise the children of Oros?"
"Ah, well, Oros and Aowas are different," he replied lightheartedly, as if he were desperately trying not to offend Laxus. Papá Ohmara's brows furrowed worriedly, "And we must all keep the peace... for the good of everyone."
"Witch hunts are bad for all of us." Laxus stated.
Ramou looked pleased before picking up where he'd previously left off, "Do you see the Lamia? One might argue they follow the moon but their goddess? Her face was banished from heaven. They should be in Her bosom, beneath their home in the shadow of the Casraines. And there, the priestesses and their bastards, but no Madame in sight. Why would that be? Tzopilatl is a god ready to conquer, and yet, when there is a gathering of servants, why is He absent?"
Laxus furrowed his brow, his mind grappling with the ideas like a bar of soap slipping between his fingers. He tried to think, to put the pieces Ramou was laying in front of him together. What was he supposed to understand from all of this?
"The Equinox?" Laxus asked, his stomach twisting.
"The Equinox...the day when the god Oros joins together the heavens, the earth, and the underworld… though, that hasn't happened in a very, very long time. In your time, master shaman?" Ramou grinned, glancing at Ohmara, "You've outlived us all, have you not?"
"No." his voice cracked, and he worried harder at what was in his hands. Laxus caught a flash of silver before it disappeared behind aged hands.
"Perhaps this year will be different," Ramou said, glancing to Teiyah, "The feeling of such power coursing unfettered through your veins… it's a life-altering experience. Or so I am told,"
Ramou sighed wistfully and returned his attention to Laxus, "Yes, yes, that is soon. And ahh, it does grant us more strength. The thinning veil allows us to tap further into our gods' powers, yes, but, and forgive me if you know this, the Lamia have orgiastic rituals during the equinox. The witches dance around a bonfire and sing. We gather the leaves of our guardian tree and listen to Dimisia speak her messages from Dihasis. The nations of the rainforest? They gather at the heel of the Temple of the Sun and watch the shadow of the great serpent of Oros slither down the steps."
He raised an eyebrow, "Do we seem in the spirits of celebration, my friend?"
Laxus looked around him. It was true that children were playing, but the priestesses watched on with anxious expressions. The conversations were hushed, worrisome, as if they were scared someone would overhear what was said. The atmosphere was as tense as it was humid. It crowded in around Laxus and made him feel claustrophobic. Not fear, but the oppressive weight of waiting for something. An entrance. An event. A calamity.
"You're here... to stop something." he said, and remembered speaking to Tzopilatl in Madame Guéneva's tent, "Whatever Tzopilatl and Father are planning. That's why Madame Guéneva isn't here."
When he looked back to Ramou, a chill raced down his spine. His eyes were wide and wild, not unlike Dimisia's when she'd pounced on him beneath the Bloodgood Athenaeum. He did not smile, and his voice was airy when he replied.
"You are canny... that is good. There is much learning to do in a short time, friend. But I think you can manage it," he smiled then, "Just remember who helped you when you reach for power, hm? Twice it was the followers of Dihasis who lifted the burden of ignorance for you."
Laxus studied him, dancing between each of his cat-like eyes, "Do you see the future, Ramou?"
Ramou smirked a bit as he looked up at him through his dark lashes, "Do I seem mad to you?"
Laxus heard the sound of scales sliding against stone. A breath he had come to recognize, except this time when it soughed back out again, he heard a word spoken clearly.
Youngblood...
His eyes fell to where the four women, the lamia, had been standing. They were gone, and sliding around the corner was what appeared to be a serpent's tail. It vanished before he could really grasp what it looked like. Without hesitation, he stepped towards it.
"A bit of wisdom, if I may?" Ramou said.
Laxus looked back at him, itching to follow what he knew to be Oros guiding him off towards something important.
"Gods have their own agendas. If there is power, it is never abandoned," his eyes darted towards the corner and back to Laxus.
"Um... Papá would like to give you this," Teiyah said timidly, holding aloft the thing he had been worrying, "It is, ah, a talisman of strength. Meant to keep you safe."
The old man lifted the silver disk in his hand and held it gently for Laxus to take. At first, Laxus wanted to refuse, but when he centered his gaze on it, a flash like lightning struck his chest. A metallic dragon scale. Metalicana.
Without second thought, he took it. There was warmth trapped inside, something Laxus felt innately wasn't from being handled by the shaman's hands. There was life, a pulse. Images of a red-eyed dragon flashed behind his eyelids. He got the sense that time was rapidly running away from him. A dragon roared, reaching out as another fell to its doom into the open jaws of a monstrous creature. A warm voiced rattled around in his brain, a voice he shouldn't have known in a language he barely understood.
"I worry I have doomed you, little pulse of the mountain... Oh, what a nasty look you have in your eyes."
A hand on his shoulder snapped him back to the present. When was it that Laxus's breath had decided to leave him? Honey-colored eyes gleamed where they stared deeply into his.
"You keep yourself too open, friend," Ramou said. His eyes darted towards the corner and back to Laxus. He frowned, fidgeting with a ring on his finger before letting out a frustrated growl. He pulled off his ring and muttered something Laxus didn't understand, a language that carried the weight of millennia in its tones. Breathy consonants and flowing, melodic vowels carried by a rhythm that felt both deliberate and poetic. He clasped Laxus's hand, forcing the ring against his palm.
Laxus opened his palm to see a wide, white gold band sculped with the open mouth of a woman's face framed by feathered wings. A large stone of deep blue lapis lazuli was held in place by the lion's fangs in her mouth.
He gave Ramou a curious look and the man held up his hands in a sign of resignation, "A gift. May Dihasis guide your steps and keep you grounded."
"Thank you." Laxus responded, slipping the still-warm band around his pinky finger and the dragon's scale in his pocket. "All of you."
"Do not thank me. You very well may be headed to your doom..." Ramou said flippantly, his amber eyes glistening in the dim light, "Don't forget to look down at the rest of us, hm?"
The three men watched Laxus leave in an austere silence, Ramou shaking his head. The archivist felt the weight of a massive paw press down on his foot and he pushed his knuckles into the muscled nape of Dimisia's neck. She leaned against his legs and he could feel her silent question of his unease. The rain began to fall harder against their shoulders.
"Not an avatar. Not a priest. Barely a man." Ramou said.
"We do not need a man. We need a dragon," Papá Ohmara said.
Ramou crossed his arms, "One could argue dragons got us into this mess."
"I-I think he seems... kind," Teiyah offered quietly, "And determined."
"Young. Impulsive." Ohmara replied.
"Be more positive, Papá." Teiyah chided with a slight smile, trying to be more optimistic. "He is passionate, not impulsive."
"He holds all the qualities of a good wizard," Ramou agreed, "We are doomed."
Dimisia let out what could only be described as an exasperated huff.
"A man can no more diminish the gods' glory by refusing to worship than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word 'darkness' on the walls of his cell." she purred, "Sentinels of trees breathe life into bodies of earthly flesh. As their mighty arms reach to the stars, we join in their quest for Helios's mighty power..."
"Like sentinels, we seek our place in the forest of nature's gentle breath," Ramou finished, and sighed heavily. He turned his gaze up into the growing storm. "Would that you ever made sense, Dimisia, I might put more weight on your words."
Author's Notes:
I spent 5+ making pasta sauce and shucking corn. It's 2:30 am and I'm exhausted.