Chapter One-Hundred-Fifty-Six: Jutarak - Part One

  Galactic Quadrant: Darna Quadrant

  Ruling Government: Talum Merchant Federation

  Solar System: D-447

  Location: Orarak City, facility beneath the Colosseum

  The blood of those who no longer breathe drips from my body as I walk towards Warden Adona’s office, having slain every person along my way and been told where to find her, carving a new path to her. The darkness swells in me like a storm, rising higher, clouding my vision. The outlines of nine demons walk with me, Krotha, Amon and seven I do not know.

  The darkness in my eyes swirls with the bioluminescence, I see flashes of the dead who linger in this realm. They whisper a single word in unison as they move with me. Hope in their eyes that I will bring their request to reality. They have heard the call of my blade’s song. Their voices are soft as a whisper upon my ears.

  The outer doors to her office space open, and I see before me a score of soldiers already dead.

  One of them crawls, gasping for breath, clutching a wound on their chest that has seared into their lung, missing their heart. I give them absolution as I move to the inner doors, a fresh trail of blood following behind me. In the reflection of the polished metal doors, I see myself, darkness crawling up my neck. My eyes are darker than the night with the only light coming from the iris of each eye, they burn in defiance. The urge to call the Cursed Edict is coming in waves now. It was never this intense before. I had not realized how much the Etherius Prism Flower had helped me.

  My mind feels frayed, the ghosts I see are a testament to it.

  The ghosts of the dead are becoming clearer to me, their voices becoming more than a whisper as I parse their words. Prayers that I will bring them justice. They are the ones who have died here. The ones whose bodies have been desecrated.

  The doors slide open, before me I see her, kneeling in blood. Warden Adona. Her back is turned to me and she clutches a lifeless body in her arms. I cannot see the face, it is buried in her chest. There are blades on the ground at her side, and an energy weapon’s barrel still steams a few paces from her.

  “They tried to take her… to put her with the rest… to turn her into…”

  She was the one to slay her retinue I realize, the one who denied my blade’s thirst. There can be no half measures, she knew of what the masters did, aided them in it. Allowed the defiling of our people. There can be no forgiveness, only blood can sate the pain in my heart.

  She does not turn as I approach, she stares down at the one she cradles in her arms.

  “He took her because she looked like my mother, when she was younger…” she whispers.

  As I draw closer, ready to slide my blades to her throat and demand the freedom of those I care for, my blade’s song stops completely.

  It is in this moment, as I see the one that lays lifeless in her arms that I feel myself breaking. A woman I have known for many years. One that I care about. Her throat is cut, her heart pierced.

  The Maka in the air trembles as I stare down at her. Everything I am falls away. My heart is breaking, not for myself, not for my own feeling of loss for her, but for someone I care more for than myself. This will destroy him.

  My eyes blink, the darkness whispers louder, Krotha and the demons, besides Amon, laugh at the emotions that coil through me. The Maka trembles further as my eyes slant at them. Their laughter falls as they shift uncomfortably under the gaze of my glowing yellow eyes.

  Turning slowly back, I cannot wish away what I see in her arms. My feet move, taking me in front of Adona to stare down at the woman in her arms. Hoping against hope it is not truly her. There are hundreds of thousands that could be in her arms and I would not weep. I would feel sorry for them, but this one… this beautiful woman who had a heart filled with kindness that even my people’s ways could not break…

  She is dead…

  My knees slam to the floor as my heart fully breaks, not for myself, but for the girl I know in Adona’s arms, and for my sworn brother Arrum.

  In her shaking arms, she holds the lifeless corpse of Isola, the girl who stole Arrum’s heart, the one he swore on his honor he would marry. My world is shattering, knowing that he has lost her.

  The darkness swells in me… Soon he will lose me too.

  The fates are too cruel, too unbalanced. As I look upon Isola’s flesh, I see scars upon her exposed body, along her arms, leading under her clothes. How she must have suffered. She did not deserve such a fate.

  There is so much hate building in me, filling the cracks of my broken heart.

  “Kill me…” Adona says finally, pushing her hand through Isola’s hair, tears streak down her face as she picks up a blade in her other hand, the hilt facing me now, she does not even look at me, “It was my hand that took your friend’s life.”

  I grasp the blade, moving it towards her, she does not recoil or try to move as it pierces the flesh, a single drop of blood rolls down the blade’s edge. My hand stops as I see the souls of the dead moving closer, surrounding Adona and I. They whisper things into my ears. Truths I do not wish to hear, truths that hold my blade from taking her life. From the still body of Isola, I begin to see a shimmer as her lingering soul rises from it. The blade driven into my heart twists as she places one hand upon Adona, and the other upon me.

  I feel warmth from her touch as though it is really there, she shakes her head at me with a smile. Her eyes tell me to forgive Adona. The words of the dead speak of what she has done, they tell me she is worthy to carry their hopes.

  The blade falls to the ground.

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  “Can you hear them…” I ask her.

  She looks up at me, taking in my eyes for the first time since I arrived, hers widen as she sees them. She does not understand, confirming what I suspected. What I already knew. Only I am seeing them. It feels like more than madness though. Something tells me these are the actual souls of my people, not my imagination… not madness.

  “The dead that linger say you are forgiven, worthy to carry…” I begin but she interrupts.

  “Liar!” she screams suddenly, her hair going askew, hanging over her eyes, “Do not tell me of fairy tales. If you will not take my pain, then I will.”

  She grasps the blade, bringing it to her throat. My hand grasps hers, ripping the blade from it, and throwing it against the wall. Grabbing the back of her head, I slam our foreheads together, and look into her eyes so she will find meaning from my words.

  “She says you gave her pills to quiet the pain, offered to free her from this place.”

  Adona looks at me, her eyes searching for truth.

  “She would not leave…” my jaw flexes, “Without Arrum.”

  “How?” she breathes, her eyes know I tell her the truth, spoken from the lips of the dead.

  “The same way I know you have saved thousands of children from the hells of this place… It is why I do not run you through, why my blade does not sing for you.”

  Her eyes flit back and forth in mine, measuring my words.

  “The dead tell me you are worthy to carry their hopes,” I say, now rising to my feet, “So I will leave you with mine.”

  “What hopes do you think I can carry? Everything I touch, everything I care about,” she looks back down at Isola, “Dies.”

  When Arrum learns what happened to Isola, he will be consumed with rage and throw his life away trying to avenge her. The darkness is closing in on me, I can feel it. Soon my mind may become tainted by it. Before it does, my last act can be to seek revenge on Arrum’s behalf. So that he can live. So that he can thrive.

  Leora has taken my future with her plans. She cannot have his.

  My heart feels hollow as I make my peace with my impending demise. I will leave on my own terms. As myself.

  “You will help free everyone from this place, and you will send a message to someone I care about.”

  “I can’t, he will stop it. You can’t beat him. Even with whatever power you have,” she says looking at the ebbing darkness from me.

  My eyes move over to hers, the coldness in my gaze strikes fear in her, “He will die today.”

  The fear fades and something in her changes, there is belief forming in her eyes. Hope even.

  She looks to me, taking in what I have said as she asks softly “What else do they say?”

  “Juta,” I say in the old tongue of our people, extending my hand down to her, “They ask for justice.”

  She looks at it for a moment. Turning to Isola and placing her gently upon the floor with her arms crossed over her chest, as is the custom of our people. Her eyes turn back upwards at the hand I extend. Her body tenses as she feels the words spoken give rhythm inside her to make action. Her hand grasps mine and she rises up to meet my gaze.

  “Then we shall give it to them,” she says, there is resolve in her, I can feel it now building as the words ignite the slumbering embers of hope in her.

  In her hands I place hope in the form of a small metallic sphere. The same sphere that Solara gave me before I arrived here.

  “There is work to be done.”

  ***

  Minutes before Present Time

  ***

  My legs carry me, the demons whisper in my ear, telling me they come for me soon. The voices of the dead chant in unison now. Muffling the sound of the crowds of the Colosseum above.

  Juta – Juta – Juta

  It fills me with strength hearing their calls for Justice. I will bring it for them, it is the only purpose I have left. The plan Adona and I concocted will only work if I can cut off the head of the snake, my blade sings loudly for it.

  I hear an ominous clicking noise coming from where my feet take me. My pace does not slow, even as my skin crawls from more than just the darkness. As the doors open, I see a container upon a lift. Inside I see a creature fastened to the walls with a thick metal alloy of some kind, coated in a thick clear plastic on the outside. To say it is hideous would not give it breath, it resembles what I imagine the inside of the masters soul to be. Grotesque mandibles click louder as I draw closer, it looks like a cockroach crossed with a man.

  Long antenna sprawl up from its head, amber wings try to flutter against the restraints, each part of its body is covered in thick armor like skin that slides back and forth. It has two main arms that are held at its side, with smaller ones that pinch at the air. Its legs are nearly like a persons, save the curve at the base and the strange feet that splay. There is a stench from the dripping saliva as it peers at me. It is a vile creature, the one the hunters are meant to slay according to Adona who led me here.

  My blade slides into my hand, having it released when I arrive at my destination would be problematic. She said this beast is very strong. I sense a thick abundance of Maka coming from it. More than a normal person would have. Its eyes bear intelligence as it looks at me. My blade raises to slash at its throat, but it does not pierce. My jaw flexes, how many of my people would this beast have killed?

  Turning the plasma blades to maximum, I slowly begin to carve the head from its neck as its thick exoskeleton melts under the combined heat of the twin plasma blades. Its beady red eyes lock onto me, it clicks lower and lower, I do not see fear in its eyes.

  This must be the creature that I heard before in the restricted area the doctor was afraid to enter. In its eyes is anger that matches mine. The lift begins to rise upwards as I am halfway through its neck. It sputters, acid dripping to the floor from its thick green blood. The putrid aroma of it wafts upwards to me. The lift stops with a dull thud. I begin to hear from the sound system the voice of Marcus, the one whose tongue incites the crowds to cheer at the suffering of my people.

  “Our Benevolent Governor Adonius has secured special dispensation from the Counsel for the next challenge. Using his connections… yet another reason to vote Adonius for Governor,” Marcus says, wagging his tongue obediently for his master.

  My eyes burn brighter as I hear the words from the snake begin to hiss its toxic lullaby.

  “Please Marcus, these good people came for the games not politics. Let them enjoy what’s in store for them,” the soon to be former Governor Adonius says. The hiss from his words brings a savage snarl to my lips as my blade cries for his blood.

  Yes, let them enjoy what is in store for them. They will pay for each scar Adonius put upon Isola’s flesh. For each person he turned into abomination.

  “So humble, truly a remarkable man,” Marcus’s tongue wags, “Without further ado, I give to you the most fearsome predator in the galaxy!”

  Marcus’s tongue speaks a rare truth as I step out into the light of day, grasping the head of the creature, throwing it upon the sands. The crowd screams as they see me, the wrath comes from deep within as I look upon them. I see hundreds of my people upon the sands, their weapons would have been useless against the tough exterior of that creature. They were to be slaughtered here, without hope. The darkness swells in my throat amplifying my voice, making it distorted with the malice I welcome from it. The Maka quakes around me, shifting the winds and blowing the sand.

  “You who would lay claim to my people, you have incurred the wrath of their blade made flesh.”

  The dead chant louder to me, yelling over the murmurs of the crowd.

  Jutarak – Jutarak – Jutarak

  My eyes grow even brighter as my heart becomes alit by their chant in the old tongue – The Bringer of Justice.

  My people who still draw breath do not understand what is happening yet, I can see it written upon their faces. Among them I see one stepping forward slowly, their gait I could recognize in any lifetime. It is Arrum… of course it is Arrum. Because Leora willed it so. If I had not come, Arrum would have died, breaking me. Filling me with a deep regret and resentment for trusting Solara that he would not fight for weeks. Leora planned for so many variables, just like Dargo said. That must be why he did not even care about telling me.

  Rage gives way and becomes wrath. Pure fucking wrath. From the darkest recesses of my soul, it rises to meet this new reality.

  I will carve her fucking heart out…

  The wrath rises higher as I see Isola’s soul travels behind him, chanting with the other souls. The dead all begin to point upwards to where the snake Adonius is upon his floating pod, high above, unreachable. Or so he thinks. Their chants are deafening.

  My blade points at Adonius, the Maka quivers as my words are amplified, “You who enslave and place boot to neck, I have come for your life.”