In the bowels of a Ketch in a secluded and secure room sat Araksis by himself. The ambitious eliksni leaned back in his chair, his eyes staring off into the distance with a mild form of contempt, as he locked his hands together as he contemplated his next move. Negotiations with his 'allies' had not been what he thought they would be; for lack of a better word, they were difficult to work with. One would figure that calling in a simple favor would be simple and quick and that those that owed a favor would honor it. As it turned out, it was quite the opposite regarding two of his worthwhile allies, and the third was just a little bit too greedy for his liking.
The baron from the House of Kings, Shelkis 'Shank Baron.' He had gone through and upheld the favor but, in return, requested from Araksis that he gets a fifty percent cut of whatever boon Araksis would generate from his endeavors hunting those light-bearers. It was far easier to accept that than what the others wanted.
The baron from the House of Winter, Kyriks 'The Invisible Death.' She had made a fuss about helping Araksis and donating any portion of her crew to his mission, ranting on and on about how helping Araksis provided no benefit and that she would not be forced to waste her resources and men on some fruitless effort.
Keeping Kyriks involved at all was a headache in and of itself. The self-centered prick needed to learn her place.
Finally, The baron from the House of Exile, Vikrsis, 'Plunderer of Hellmouth.' Araksis growled; he knew that House Exile could be challenging to work with; they were a house driven by anarchy. Vikrsis continued challenging his authority, the young and rebellious baron of Exile, simply because she could.
Misfits, outcasts, malcontents, and renegades from other houses united under a new banner, no Kell, no Archon; Araksis didn't know if they had a Prime Servitor. Their leadership consisted of self-serving barons whose bonds could be considered loose at best.
Araksis let out a soft hiss through his rebreather and took a deep breath of a flow of ether from it, he relaxed, and his hands pulled apart. He exited his chair and paced around the room; Araksis's room was designed with one purpose. A place for him to think and look over items of importance he had collected. He stretched out one of his hands, running his fingers across a desecrated helmet from a light-bearer hanging in the air in a stasis field, once owned by a titan slain in battle by his wit and beaten back when it rose once more from the dead. Araksis removed his hand from the object and continued to pace, his eyes turning to the next object.
Egg-cloth, from a hatchling; when Araksis touched it, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and ran his thumb along its smoothed surface. His shoulders relaxed, and his body let out the day's stress. He pulled his hand away a moment later and continued to pace, heading to the next suspended object. This time a helmet at level with his head was worn by his captain when he was but a lowly dreg and then vandal. It was aged and damaged from a fight long ago by a particular trophy. The helmet was a typical Captain's helmet with no severe modifications, but the damage was pocked across its surface. Lens cracked and blown out, and parts of the helmet caved in.
Araksis stared at the helmet, its broken lens, and his hands clenched into tight fists; he closed his eyes, tensed up his shoulders, and popped his neck. He needed to stand his ground against them, but how could he? He needed to rethink his strategy. His approach to the barons required a much more efficient form of diplomacy, a correction he was willing to make.
Araksis pondered the thought. A walk around the Ketch would clear his brain and give him the foresight he needed to lead. He turned to the only way in and out of the room; he ignored the other items in stasis and headed out.
The halls of his Ketch were quiet today. The crew who tirelessly worked and toiled away, taking care of what was family to them, were either asleep or in the mess hall. Araksis ran his hands along the walls of his Ketch; quietly, he listened to the ambient noise of the mighty ship—the creaking and metal, the flow of air, the small chatter and chittering in the vents.
"Hatchlings~," He raised his head and spotted many pairs of blue eyes gazing down at him from a nearby vent, "Tut tut, Lavimis would be disappointed in you. Quit playing in the vents and get back to your studies," Araksis cracked a small smile as the many eyes continued to stare at him; the next generation of eliksni would not be fallen. Not if he had anything to say about that. Though he had to admit he missed being a tiny hatchling himself, he could remember the days of his far, far away youth. How he loved to explore vents himself, he had navigated so many in his younger years.
Araksis ventured on, passing by a pair of dregs hard at work, tending to the open panels and making repairs. He stopped in his tracks, earning the attention of his lessers, "You should rest, finish up your repairs that are of most importance," He could read his crew's emotions like an open book; Araksis was so familiar with each face that he knew that the two before him were stressed out and tired.
One day Araksis would free them from their position when the future of the eliksni was secured, and he was Kell of his house. In his vision of the future, there would be no more docking because of failure; no only criminals would be given a fate like that. Both dregs look at Araksis and then each other before giving him a slight nod.
Araksis carried on; he made his way to a nearby grav-chute and stepped onto the platform, carrying up the chute through its use of gravity manipulation. Araksis took a moment to pause and look around the walls of his Ketch. It didn't look new, but it was clean. Spotless, clean of rust and damages. He needed to find out who on the crew had done these walls recently. He wished to thank them for their efforts.
The Ketch, after all, was a part of the family as much as any other fallen.
Once in the main bridge of his Ketch, Araksis took a moment to look around. It was empty at the moment- A little shuffle from the comms deck caught his attention, and he saw a barrel fall on its side; Araksis moved over to it and peered over to the side behind the comms console spotting a tiny young hatchling, "Ah what are you doing up here?" Araksis reached forward gently, grabbing the hatchling by the hood of its clothing. He held the future of his people in one hand and stared him in the face. The youth hissed at him and kicked and thrashed but did not deter Araksis in the slightest; if anything, it earned a chuckle from him, "Ah, youth," He waited until the hatchling gave up and stared at him, "Heh, you won't escape my grasp young one… Now, do you mind telling me what you are doing-"
"Oh! There he is! Captain Araksis, thank you!" A came polite chirp from behind; Araksis turned around, placing the hatchling on the ground as he did.
"Yaleks, mind telling me what you're doing allowing this hatchling to run around up here?" Yaleks was a young eliksni woman, a vandal in the ranking structure of their people. Yaleks was Lavimis's younger sibling, a polite woman with kindness much like Araksis's mate. She wore the current attire of a vandal though she forwent the helmet as she rarely, if ever, took to the field of combat herself. She was unlike Lavimis in that respect, who was willing to fight. Araksis would've never allowed her promotion had he not seen how tentative she was to the many hatchlings on board his Ketch.
Yaleks needed all the arms she could to handle the troublesome hatchlings.
Yaleks picked up the hatchling, who ran to her carrying him in her arms, as a few blue eyes poked their head over her shoulder, "I was attempting to get this one, he has been very insistent on avoiding his bath, and as such I must clean him."
"Mmm, I see."
Yaleks went to bow, "Yes, my Captain, I am sorry for-"
Araksis raised his hand, getting her to stop, "It! Is of no problem Yaleks, at ease as the humans would say. No need to prostrate yourself before me; you are family like everyone on this Ketch!" Arkasis made a sweeping gesture, "Even if I had not chosen and mated with your sister, you would still be family, just like this Ketch," He chuckled.
"Of course, my- Araksis," She smiled back at Araksis and then paused before adding, "What were you doing up here anyways?"
Araksis glanced back at the console, "I was going to contact our," He paused before staring back at Yaleks, "Allies. The barons. I wish to settle this problematic diplomacy."
Yaleks nodded, "I understand. Have you considered going to Lavimis for advice?" She leaned in a bit and suggested for one the other door, "I am sure my sister could give some wisdom on this situation or an idea."
Araksis looked at the door he had come from and then at Yaleks, "Ah, I had not thought of that, Yaleks. I will see my mate. Thank you," He bowed to Yaleks before leaving the room and heading to the door that led into another portion of his Ketch. He would run down the halls in silence and take a turn or two before arriving at the entrance to his and Lavimis's private quarters. The door slid open, and he stepped inside and saw his lovely mate resting in bed, covered in soft lilac sheets that held her form in their warmth.
Araksis sighed as he saw his sleeping mate; he did not wish to disturb her in her slumber. Slowly he approached the right side of the bed and sat on its edge; he gently brought a lower hand and caressed his lover's cheek; after a minute, he pulled away; he figured it would be best to wait till his mate awoke from her slumber. Araksis gaze turned to the room's ceiling, the chains, and the support beams hiding away a secret.
Araksis climbed up the wall and grasped onto two support beams before using his lower right arm to reach into a small and pull out a small round device. A recording device was one of the few things he owned and kept private. Not secured in his private room but truly hidden away in a space no one would suspect to hold a secret.
He pressed a button on the side of the device, and the projection popped into existence. The image was of a long, long-forgotten place destroyed in a whirlwind that swept his people to the stars. Beautiful ether rich atmosphere, hills full of lush life overlooking a city. Araksis closed his eyes and relaxed, thinking far back to when he was so young a hatchling. He could not recall every detail but easily muster up the vague pieces of memories of a long-forgotten time.
Araksis could remember family, friends, and delicious food cooked to celebrate a Great Machine that hung in their sky. A bright future awaited him, and he could remember it that day. Araksis despised what he remembered of that day, that fear he felt for the first time in his life. He was so young and useless. He remembered the voyage, the day he entered cryo sleep. He remembered the day he was awoken and raised and every struggle in his life; he remembered his lower arms being lobbed off. Araksis softly hissed as he recalled the awkward regrowth of his limbs. The molting process that followed it made his skin crawl.
Araksis opened his eyes and looked once more at the image of Riis, and he would lead his people one day. They all rise together under his leadership, first the House of Devils and then the rest. They would not suffer any longer because of humanity, and he would be the one to reclaim the Traveler and bring light and hope back to his people. As for humanity, he would wipe them out from that protected city and force them into the wilderness to live a slow and painful life as his people had in this forsaken system-
A soft groan caught Araksis' attention; he craned his head over his shoulders, catching sight of Lavimis stirring. Quickly he turned off the projection device and sat it back in its nook before dropping down from the beams. He landed in a low crouch with all but one of his arms holding him up; he raised his head and met with the waking gaze of his mate.
"Araksis? Mmmm, what an interesting position you are in," Lavimis spoke with a yawn as she raised all four arms and stretched as she stared down at her mate, "Mmm."
"Well, we've been in more interesting positions, my love," Araksis stood up and crawled forward until he was on top of Lavimis, her hands trailing his waist, "I could think of a few more," He whispered to his love.
Lavimis made an almost purr-like sound as she giggled, "Perhaps you may wish to disrobe then?" Her upper arms wrested locked around Araksis shoulders, pulling him in close while her lower pair trailed lower, "Get out of your stuffy armor and have some time with me?"
Araksis chuckled, his left upper hand gently caressing the side of Lavimis's face, who affectionately nuzzled into his hand, "Hmmm, could you handle the hatchlings I put into you?" He watched a grin spread over his mate's face, a small chitter escaping as he tensed up when her hands grabbed tightly.
Lavimis huskily spoke her voice in a much more seductive tone, one used to lure Araksis in many times before, "I have already borne your hatchlings before; what would be any different now?" Araksis shuddered as her grip tightened.
Lavimis's upper hands worked to remove the rebreather piece of his helmet, unlatching it from the rest and placing it off to the side, "Woman, I am your eventual Kell of Kells. My spawn will be quite potent," Araksis asserted as he leaned in further to kiss his mate and speak seductively, "You will help disrobe and worship my glory."
"Of course, my Kell. I will do as you ask of me, your humble servant~" Lavimis played along to his tune, but before either could continue further, the sound of their bedroom door opening from behind, attention away from each other.
A young fallen boy stood in the doorway to the room; he stared right at them with wide eyes, his arms idle at his sides. The hood of his cloak hid his face entirely, "U-uh." The young eliksni stood barely up to Araksis's waist.
Araksis rolled off Lavimis, allowing his lover to cover under their bed's sweet, velvety purple sheets. While Araksis got off the bed, he grabbed his rebreather and reattached it, "W-whats going on?" Araksis's heart raced as the young eliksni spoke with a confused curiosity. He glanced at his mate and then back at the child before coughing into his hand.
Araksis spoke first, "We were… practicing combat situations…." The embarrassment he felt was immense. How could he have forgotten to lock the door?
"For if guardians boarded us, " Lavimis added, sweat running down her face. The young eliksni boy tilted his head curiously to the side, eyes narrowing before returning his head to its original position.
"Oh! Okay!" Araksis sighed in relief as his spawn bought the lie. He did not want to explain the birds and the bees as it were to his child. He was not old enough yet.
Araksis sat on the bed, "What do you want, Kiriksis?" He spoke his son's name in a kind but firm tone.
Kiriks perked up at his Father's interest and proudly took a step toward his parents, "Well, you see, Father, I have-" He stopped in his tracks as Araksis raised his hand, gesturing for him to stop.
Araksis was sweating bullets beneath his armor, "Boy, could you give your mother and me a few minutes and wait outside the room? We'll call you after that. Then you may continue with your excitement."
Kiriks nodded and turned around, rushing out of the room, the door closing behind him. Araksis watched for a minute and then lowered his head and sighed; he shook his head in disappointment, "I forgot to lock the door… by the Great Machine itself, I forgot to lock the door!" He threw his head back and groaned exasperated as his head fell into his mate's lap.
Lavimis chuckled as she locked eyes with Araksis, "Darling, it is not your fault. Kiriks is just young and easily excited by new discoveries. He just wants to show you what he has done, as any boy to his father would. There is no need to beat yourself up over a child's actions."
"You are right. Get dressed. Let us hear what Kiriks has to say," Araksis sat up, allowing Lavimis to hop out of bed.
"No peeking~" Lavimis teased from behind.
Araksis rolled his eyes and craned his head over his shoulders; he heard the hiss of the door, its locking mechanism setting into place, and not a second later, he began to chuckle excitedly. He had the best mate in the whole galaxy.
Once everything was said and done, Araksis and Lavimis sat at the end of their bed. Kiriks walked back into the room with that same excited energy as before, none wiser.
Araksis groaned as his hatchling sat on his lap, "Agh, what is it you wish to tell me, Kiriks?" He placed his upper hands on his son's shoulders as his boy looked him in the eye. It was a childish excitement that he saw so thoroughly burning into his retinas; a pressure welled up in Araksis's chest as he smiled beneath his helmet.
"Father, I know you've had problems with the Ketch recently, the energy consumption of the ships' weaponry being quite, mmm, consuming?" Kiriks hands fiddled with each other as he looked down at the ground, a little embarrassed.
"Yes, this has been a problem… What have you done?" Araksis asked curiously.
Kiriks looked his father in the eyes, his hands still fiddling together, "Well, I figured I could take a look at what could be done to cut back on the consumption without lowering the effective damage output."
"You have?" Araksis, his curiosity was now at a high.
Kiriks beamed at his father's interest; he reached into the baggy clothes he wore, "Yes! Right here!" He pulled out a small data pad which he showed off to his father, "See, I noticed the inefficiency of our weaponry, and it turns out that they were designed poorly, drawing on too much power. I wrote these blueprints, schematics, and a few programs to help fix this problem, Father."
"You…" Araksis grabbed Kiriks by the waist; he stood up, taking his son with him, "You are a genius!" He held him up in the air, his spawn looking down at him surprised.
"Really!" Kiriks spoke with a happy chitter.
Araksis nodded and placed Kiriks back down, "My little hatchling is a genius! I knew you were smart but this smart? None of the crew have been able to figure this out! But you, my boy? Hmm, Kiriks, you could splicer one day with the brains you have?" He knelt next to his son and pushed a finger into his chest.
"Really?" His son had never been this happy before, and it brought warmth to Araksis.
"Yes, of course! With a brain like that, you could have a bright future for our people." Araksis expected great things from his boy. He loved his hatchling with all his heart, and while his people raised children communally, Kiriks were different than the rest. He was raised partially in the communal sense, but his ties to Araksis and Lavimis were much more robust, but Kiriks wasn't given preferential treatment over his peers.
Araksis spoke excitedly, "Lavimis, our boy is a genius!" Ah, he should celebrate with a round of ether!
Lavimis giggled and nodded gently in agreement.
"Thank you, Father, Mother! I am proud to have made you so happy with my work."
"No!" Araksis firmly stated.
"W-what?" Kiriks spoke, confused by his father's words.
Araksis looked to Lavimis briefly and then pulled his child close, a hand resting on his shoulder, "I am not happy because of your work; I respect your work and am proud of what you made. I am happy because you, my son, are applying yourself and distinguishing yourself. You are growing up before my very eyes; never get those two mixed up with each other," He hugged his son and held him tightly, "You are the one that brings me happiness, not your work. I love you always, son."
"T-thank you, father," Kiriks smiled, showing off the rows of sharp teeth, as he pulled away, "W-would I be allowed to-"
"Hmm? What is it?"
"I wish to shadow you, Father," Kiriks stated bluntly.
Araksis stared at his spawn, "Shadow me? Do you mean you wish to see how I work?" Araksis received a slight nod, "I see; that could be arranged for a day. But not today, my son. I have a business I need to attend to." He believed Kiriks was better off not being involved in his line of work, at least for now. Perhaps in time, he would be there to witness how he handled dealings with other fallen.
"Business with the barons still?" Lavimis spoke with a peaked curiosity.
Araksis sat beside his mate, "Yes, the barons. It was why I came originally to talk to you… I forgot."
Lavimis wrapped an arm around his waist and leaned into his sturdy core, "Yes, it appears you were sidetracked."
"By the combat simulation!" Kiriks added
"YES! BY THE COMBAT SIMULATIONS!" Araksis glanced at Lavimis, gritting his teeth beneath his helmet as he stressed his words, "The combat simulations you and I worked so hard on!"
Lavimis chuckled, "Well, what do you need to talk about, darling?"
"You see, I need guidance ship. To deal with such," Araksis looked at Kiriks and carefully chose words, "Wonderful partners. Frustrating as they are, I can not reach a favorable agreement; they have all but thrown a fit for me calling our favors."
Lavimis sighed and thought momentarily before answering, "Hmm, have you appealed to their sense of honor? Or offered anything in return?"
"Shelkis, I could at least get them to honor it through unfavorable terms; the other two, not so much," Araksis admitted as he shook his head.
"Hmmm, have you considered challenging them to a duel?" Lavimis suggested.
"No, I have not," Araksis answered.
"Settle it as with the traditions of old; a duel with the first one to draw blood is the victor."
Araksis had forgotten about that tradition where members of rival houses would settle their differences through combat. The fighting would stop when one's blood was drawn in the duel. It wasn't enacted much in the current day and age. The tensions were always so high between the houses it had flown under his radar. The plan formulated in Araksis's mind, a grin growing on his face and a small chuckle escaping from his mouth.
/.\./.\
Araksis stood watching his crew work tirelessly on the bridge; he had finished contacting the three barons wishing to meet in person. On his Ketch, with his proposed beneficial offer. They accepted his offer. Now Araksis had only to wait; in the meantime, he contacted the rest of the House Devils back in the cosmodrome only to receive no answer. No one was picking up, and it made his stomach churn.
The silence was an ominous sign foreboding; he knew he had been neglectful in checking in with his house, but his focus had been obtaining his prey and securing the favors he was owed. Araksis' plans, in general, were slowed down, and partially by choice. He knew his prey would not move far even if they had assistance from the Pilgrim Guard, the humans of the Last City were cautious when migrating their people to that fortified bastion they called home.
That was why Araksis had small scouting squads dispersed over the general southern area his prey had been last headed towards, and they would locate them and update him on their current position. He had not received an update since, but he was more than patient when it came to that… but his house, his home? That was different. He cherished them, and if something had happened to them, he would abandon his current endeavors and rush back to its defense. Araksis chittered softly as his eyes narrowed as he stared out the single window of his ship, the view of outer space and the earth below a beautiful sight.
A crowning jewel of which his Ketch sat in orbit, though nowhere near the Last City. He did not need those light-bearer thieves to board his ship and rampage about it. Araksis closed his eyes and thought deeply; he had already begun this next significant step for himself and his people. He opened his eyes and steeled himself; backing down was not an option, nor was giving focus to the troubling lack of communication between him and the house. The future was what mattered, and that future must come now.
Araksis had to be patient. He could not stress and worry about ifs. Patience was a reward in itself, and the humans, the Pilgrim Guard, were not invincible or infallible. They had a weakness to them, openings within them. It was all about knowing when to strike, his prey could run far, but they would never reach the Last City. It would be all the sweeter when he snatched them from their goal, and it would destroy them and their personhood.
A small comms beep caught Araksis's attention, and his gaze flicked over to its location. His eyes narrowed, and he gestured for his crew to open it.
"Captain, can you hear me?" The voice belonged to one of his scouts; it seemed he had found something.
Araksis stepped over to the comms leaning on the device with both upper hands, "Yes, I can; what are you reporting?" He answered back.
"I have found the thieves; they are in a town. I tried bargaining with the local human bandits. They failed; a guardian showed up along with a caravan."
"A caravan?" Araksis chittered as he thought.
"Yes, a big one, armored," Answered back his loyal, faithful scout.
Araksis tone became curious, "Were you seen?" The plans he laid out in his mind were now in question, depending on the answer provided by his scout.
"No, I was not," Araksis looked to another terminal smiling as he saw his scout uploading the information, a set of coordinates to his prey's current position.
Araksis grinned, "Good, we need the element of surprise."
"I believe they will leave with the caravan, my Captain," Added his scout.
Araksis hissed into his rebreather, "I see, so they are with Pilgrim Guard…." The confirmation that his prey was involved with the Pilgrim Guard, to some degree, changed nothing.
"Will it be a problem, my Captain?" The scout spoke curiously.
"No, we'll simply reapproach as how I planned. Bide our time and wait till our prey are open; the humans always leave openings when they believe themselves to be safe; our patience will reward us, "Araksis firmly answered, "Have the rest of the scouts link up with you, stay out of sight, and keep an eye on their location, they won't notice one skiff keeping and its crew keeping an eye on them. You're in charge now; they will differ leadership from you."
"Of course, my Captain."
"Do not die; there is a bright future waiting for you," Araksis spoke as the communication ended, though another set of notifications went off as it did. Araksis looked to see what it was. Three requests asking for permission to dock on his ship, Araksis granted it. It was time to settle the favors owed.
Araksis ventured to the cargo bay of his ketch; he stood on the support platform overlooking the bay flanked by two vandals holding wire rifles. He softly hissed as three skiffs docked safely, disgorging their personnel, but that which stood above the rest, including himself. They weren't Kell sized by any means, but barons of the many fallen houses, on average, tended to be bigger than a standard captain. Their authority and power stood second only to the upper echelons of their respective house.
Save for the anarchic House Exile, where barons ruled. No Kell or Archon, or Prime Servitor.
All three of his so-called allies had arrived with a squad each, Shelkis flanked by four vandals and two heavy shanks. Kyriks was supported by two vandals, a mix of dregs and shanks, and Vikrsis and rabble, a mixture of dregs and vandals. The air was tense, all parties eyeing one another before each turned their head to Araksis.
Shelkis stepped forward. He was the largest baron of the three, a muscular eliksni who could crush a skull between his biceps. His armor bore the colors of his house proudly, a mixture of gold and yellows with small browns in between, and like his fellow barons, he wore a cloak though his cloak was made of the finest of wolf pelts. The armor was pristine, but even that surface was imperfect, dents and pock-marks of damage layered across them.
"Araksis," Shelkis politely bowed if there was one thing; Araksis could always give those of the House of Kings they were always the most polite and proper. Below that surface, however, lay the most cunning and crafty individuals of any house; in a way, Araksis found kinship amongst their house.
Before Araksis could speak, the loud, brash voice of Vikrsis spoke out, "Enough pleasantry; why have you tried once again to bargain with us?" She pushed aside her crew until she stood apart from them. Vikrsis stood out as the smallest of the three gathered barons closer in height to Araksis. Her green armor was tattered and battered from constant combat, and places where the armor was damaged, were repaired with sharp pieces of metal, welded on parts from other armor, or just welded back together.
On Vikrsis's shoulders were mounted two junk metal pauldrons, each bore markings associated with the Vanguard that had been etched out. Her hand rested on a sheathed saber at her hip.
"For talks, Vikrsis," Araksis answered, keeping his arms crossed as he eyed each of the barons' movements, "Over food, of course, I would not be so inhospitable as to deny my allies a meal as we talk."
"You think food will change my mind?" Vikrsis spat back as she took another step forward; the fallen that flanked Araksis' sides raised their rifles at her, but he gestured them to lower their weapons. He would not needlessly spill his fellow eliksni blood.
"No, but hospitality and honoring his allies can, Vikrsis," Spoke Kyriks in a matter-of-fact tone, "It seems Araksis has finally learned to respect us rather than demanding the favors owed, not that it will change anything," Kyriks stood as the second tallest of the barons, her light blue armor in a similar condition to Shelkis though to a lesser degree, very few parts of the armor were welded back together.
"Enough banter; Araksis provides us food and hospitality; you'd do well not to spit on a gift, Vikrsis," Shelkis and Araksis exchanged glances. Despite all the grievances Araksis had with Shelkis, they could agree on proper hospitality and keeping things professional, even if Shelkis was the more greedy of the two.
With that said, the party of fallen would be guided into the mess hall of Araksis Ketch, the room reorganized with a long massive table at the center of it.
Araksis sat at the end of one side, Shelkis at the other, the left side went to Kyriks and the right to Vikrsis. Their crews evenly spread out amongst them, helmets discarded. Gear placed at the side, voracious appetites of the organic crew displayed through their dregs such hungry dregs.
"So, about those light-bearers, you've been keen on killing; what makes you think you'll be able to do anything to them or gain anything from their death or capture?" Shelkis asked as he tore apart a chicken leg with his bare hands, "You've been very light on the details, as it were."
Kryiks and Vikrsis stared at Araksis, waiting for him to answer; Araksis sat silently, pondering what to say. A second later, Araksis spoke, "I suppose it's a matter of differences; they manifest elements and display unnatural strength for their size. I encountered something similar to it once many years ago with a friend of theirs. While I did not see little machines with them, the difference between them and those beneath the Great Machine is apparent to me; if they do not have those ghosts with them, they must be harnessing the light through some means."
"What happens if they are just the same?" Kryiks asked as she tore into a meaty thigh.
"I assure you they aren't," Araksis calmly spoke.
"Of course," Vikrsis responded sarcastically.
Araksis glared at Vikrsis, "Have you ever heard of a Guardian manifesting ice?" Araksis rebutted, a silence quickly following. No one spoke.
"I thought so," Araksis did not eat nor drink the food at his end of the table; he simply watched the crews of the barons chow down on their meals, "Now, would you like to ask anything else about them?"
"Where are they?" Vikrsis asked.
"Further south of Devil's territory, they made it quite far on foot," Araksis answered with a hint of respect.
"Why not just strike them down now?" Kryiks huffed, "Why are we even needed if they don't have ghosts."
"Where would the fun be in that?" Araksis shot back.
Shelkis quirked a brow as he leaned in a bit, "Fun?"
Araksis chuckled, "Yes, the thrill of the hunt. I take my time to gather allies and stack the deck in my favor," He reached forward and grabbed a bone stripped of its meat; he held it between his upper hands playing with it, "Humans are a nuisance to me; I despise them for what they have done to our people—especially that of the Saint. But I am not cruel like them. I give them a chance."
Araksis gripped the bone tightly, beginning to apply pressure, a minor fracture splintering across the bone, "I let them feel hope; I let them dream of what could be. So when I finally catch up to them," The bone shattered into two between Araksis hands, "They can hold the same despair as every fallen slain by humanity."
All eyes fell on Araksis, the air of the room uneasy, "I could do much worse to them, Shelkis. I am far too kind to give them a worse fate," Araksis placed the broken bone back on the table, letting the dregs fight over it for the marrow.
"But that doesn't answer why you need us so badly," Vikrsis finally spoke up as she finished mauling a breast.
"Well, I suppose that has an answer too. I wasn't lying when I said I prefer to have the deck stacked in my favor. But this prey of mine is indeed working with the Pilgrim Guard," Araksis admitted, "A mighty challenge, some might say, and one that would lead many of our people to die."
"So, you need bodies to fill your ranks?" Shelkis' tone took on a more serious vibe; his body remained relaxed as the other two barons tensed in their seats.
"No, I need firepower, not corpses," "What good would a bunch of dead fallen serve?"
"Do you even have a plan?"
"I do, but it requires a steady hand. I am quite patient after all," Araksis finished as the room fell silent save for the chew noises of hungry dregs. He sat quietly for a few minutes, letting his valuable allies take in the information he kindly provided.
When Araksis felt it right, he began to speak, "The real reason I called you here is simple; I issue a challenge to you of the old ways," He gestured to the barons, "A duel, the first to draw blood is the victor."
"Are you serious? Why would I even entertain an idea such as that?" Kryiks spoke offendedly as if the issue of a challenge was some affront.
"Why would I ever honor the old ways," Vikrsis bluntly stated as if there was no need to explain herself further.
"Curious, even after we have come to an understanding?" Shelkis was not offended like Kryiks or annoyed like Vikrsis. He remained collected, unlike the other two.
"I am serious, more so than I have ever been in my life," Araksis stood up from his seat, "Do not tell me you won't honor the old ways, Shelkis, Kryiks. Such civilized eliksni such as yourselves must see the value in maintaining our practices."
"You all are fools abiding by old traditions and the words of old fools; why honor a dying tradition?" Vikrsis tore into the meat of a drumstick.
All eyes shifted on Vikrsis; Araksis narrowed his gaze at the young baron, "Vikrsis, young and naive as always."
Vikrsis snorted and rolled her eyes, "As if you are any better; we aren't that far apart in age, Araksis," She spoke his name with venom as she took another bite of her drumstick.
A dreg approached, holding a saber for Araksis to grab, "Only by a technicality, and I am still older than you," Araksis tested the weight of his blade, giving it a few swings as he avoided hitting anyone; he made sure to keep at least one eye on Vikrsis.
"Yes, yes. Of course," Vikrsis sarcastically responded, muttering something under her breath.
"Are you scared, Vikrsis?" Kryiks egged on the other baron; her lips spread into a wide grin. Vikrsis did not respond.
Araksis stopped his motions and stepped closer to Vikrsis, "You are, aren't you?" He added fuel to the flames.
Vikrsis growled and stood up, slamming all her hands onto the table, "I have plundered the Hellmouth; watch your tongue-"
Araksis didn't give her a chance to speak; he pointed his saber in her direction, "You did plunder parts of the Hellmouth, only at the cost of your crew's lives; you are a brute unable to think strategically other than bashing down the doors of your opponent's homes. You are the one that will lead to the death of our culture because you are scared to learn and embrace your heritage. With no care for your family."
"I owe allegiance to no one greater than me," Vikrsis hissed, her voice straining as she held barely concealed anger.
"That is why you align with House of Exile?" Araksis casually examined her body language. He would bait her further.
"Silence, you worm. House of Exile is not like these dying houses!" She yelled and took steps towards Araksis.
Araksis kept his blade pointed at Vikrsis, aimed right at her neck if she got any closer, "Of course, that is why you all clammer to the moon, where those wretched beasts lie. That is why you have no Kell, Archon, or Prime Servitor. You are anarchic, a house lacking true leadership. A house that, if given any true focus, would be wiped out by a superior force."
"If you want a fight, then you'll have it, Araksis," Vikrsis pulled out her saber and raised it in return, pointing it at Araksis, who chuckled and shot his gaze to Kryiks and Shelkis, "Good, Kryiks; Shelkis, would care to join us? I'll fight all of you at once."
Kryiks stood up laughing, "All of us, bold of you, Araksis. I'll humiliate you," She turned around to face a dreg that approached her with a blade offered up.
Shelkis took a bite of his food, waving his hand, "No, thank you. I'll enjoy the humiliation that follows, though," He leaned back into his seat, casually observing the other two barons.
"Where will we fight?" Vikrsis asked.
"In here, of course. Why do you think I cleared the room as I did?" Araksis gestured to the space of the mess hall, where a white circle was painted on the floor; he moved to the dead center of it, both sets of arms stretched out wide, "Just remember, if I win, you'll be under my service."
"I'll enjoy humiliating you before your crew," Vikrsis confidently spoke as she approached Araksis.
Araksis moved to the end of the makeshift arena; he stood silently as Vikrsis and Kryiks made their way over. Kryiks stood back while Vikrsis took an aggressive stance, Araksis took a step forward, and Vikrsis rushed to meet him. Araksis swung his blade, and Vikrsis met it with hers, their blows deflecting off each other as they met again with another swing. He could feel the weight behind each swing, the way metal scratched against each other. Vikrsis sheer brutality gave her an advantage. She was willing to go all out in a sword fight, she held nothing back, and Araksis admitted to himself that blow for blow, Vikrsis was stronger.
But just as much as her brutality was a benefit, it was also a weakness. Araksis would thoroughly exploit it, their blades locked together, sparks flying off, "I see now, Vikrsis. You fight like a child," He leaned in, forcing her to step back; he redirected her blow downwards and followed it up with a backhand across the face sending Vikrsis stumbling backward.
Araksis turned swiftly to lock blades with an opportunistic Kryiks; Vikrsis, however, soon reentered the fray, bringing her sword into the middle of their locked blades, breaking it up, and forcing both to step back.
"Stay out of this, Kryiks!" Vikrsis howled as she turned to face her fellow baron, "Do not enter my fight."
Araksis cracked a smile beneath his rebreather; their failure to work together would be their undoing. But he still needed to remain cautious; Kryiks was like a predator in wait, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike and land a hit, lucky for him, Vikrsis was a naive child.
"Fine, fool," Kryiks hissed with disdain as she stepped back; Vikrsis turned around to face Araksis and raised her blade at him.
"I will have your blood on my blade Araksis," Vikrsis spoke, her tone laced with venom.
Araksis threw his head back and laughed, "Of course, that's what I have saved your life again and again more times than I have helped you," That was enough to set Vikrsis off, who charged at Araksis their blades met and locked again, Araksis leaned in, "Tell me, Vikrsis, wasn't I that saved you from those beasts? The same beasts you engaged in a sword fight with?"
"Silence-"
"Ah, yes, it was. I remember you were on the ground near death. They were ready to finish the job; had it not been for me, you would've never lived to obtain your current title!" Araksis stated with a laugh he had helped each baron here in some way, shape, or form over many years. But Vikrsis had been saved more times than he could count.
Vikrsis's grip slipped, and Araksis seized the moment to parry her blade; he then followed up with a slash across her stomach, leaving a shallow cut. Vikrsis stumbled back, clutching it, raising her head, and looking back at Araksis.
Araksis held his blade out, showing the blood across its surface, "The battle is over for you, Vikrsis," He stood proud in front of the brute of a baron.
Vikrsis growled and charged at Araksis; not caring that Araksis had drawn her blood, she swung her sword at Araksis, who parried her blow and just as quickly parried the follow-up from Kryiks, who seized the opportunity to try and land a hit. Both barons stepped back cautiously, observing Araksis.
Araksis growled at the action, a disgrace to old traditions and open violation, "Yield, Vikrsis," Araksis hissed, only to receive a hiss back from Vikrsis. He paced himself, keeping his eyes on Kryiks and Vikrsis and ensuring his stance was defensive. The two barons split off, circling Araksis; he had to keep his eyes on one or the other-
Vikrsis let out a battle cry and charged Araksis from behind. He turned around and swiftly parried the blow from her saber, hitting her in the face with the butt of his sword, sending her staggering back. Then just as quickly, he turned and locked blades with the silent and collected Kryiks. Araksis punched with his lower arms hitting Kryiks in the stomach and causing her to flinch, allowing Araksis to follow up by forcing back her blade and then kicking her in the stomach.
Heavy steps came from behind, and Araksis snapped around, dropping his blade but grabbing, Vikrsis's arm and redirecting her blow into the air with his remaining arms; he swiftly hoisted her up and above his head before throwing her at Kryiks, who attempted to stand back up. Vikrsis collided with Kryiks knocking her back down with Vikrsis on Kryik's chest; both groaned audibly in pain. Both barons' swords had been removed from their hands and laid close to Araksis.
Araksis picked up his sword and Vikrsis's blade. He glanced at the audience of astonished dregs and vandals, then to Shelkis, who watched intently, and finally at his crew in the room. He could hear them whispering, chanting his name. Araksis approached the downed barons Vikrsis tried to get up, but Araksis firmly placed his foot on her chest, keeping her and Kryiks down. He leaned forward with a soft hiss from his rebreather, his eyes locking with both Vikrsis and Kryiks, the blades he held crossed and went for the necks of the two barons.
But Araksis never followed through; instead, he kept them from completing their purpose, "Yield," He spoke in a low tone, "Yield, and I will spare your lives for your transgressions."
"I-I yield," Vikrsis stammered out.
"Yield, I yield! Please don't kill me!" Begged Kyriks.
Araksis saw the fear in their eyes; even the defiant Vikrsis was panicked and scared for her life. He pressed the blades further into their neck, drawing blood, and then removed them from their necks, leaving only minor cuts.
Araksis stood up straight, keeping his foot on Vikrsis's chest, keeping both her and Kryiks pinned.
"You are beaten; let this be a lesson never to cross me," Araksis removed his foot from Vikrsis's chest, allowing her to roll off of Kryiks, both of the barons lay on the floor catching their breath as Araksis turned his attention to Shelkis, "Shelkis, care to fight?" Araksis pointed his saber at Shelkis.
Shelkis chuckled and shook his head, "No, I believe we should discuss our terms once more, though," He took another bite of his food.
"When will you need us, Araksis?" Kryiks asked, now up on her feet, dusting herself off and rubbing her neck. Vikrsis said nothing, only looking away in shame as she returned to her seat.
"When the time is right, my prey will be at their weakest moment, when they least expect us. But till that has come, we wait to strike perfectly. Patience is a reward in and of itself," Araksis handed his sword back to the dreg, who gave it to him and approached his seat. He sat down, leaning back into it, his lower hands clasped together while his upper left reached for his cup, raising it as he eyed the three barons, "So, my barons, let's get down to business."
Authors Notes:
Alright, that's another chapter finished. I hope you all can enjoy the content this chapter provided and further insights into Araksis and his character. Now I'll be moving on to the next chapter this time, and we'll be back with our favorite death-prone Guardian and what he has been doing since we last saw him.