Part CIII: Unmasked
Date: Kapton 12th, 114 A.U.
Astrid rolled, unable to fall asleep. They had broken through into the cave late last night and had decided to wait until morning to break in. But, both curious about what they were about to find, and still awake after a boring day, she was still awake.
Restless, she left her chambers, exiting the ship as she stood in the cool night air. A shadow moved in the distance, and Astrid’s hand reached for her gun, slowly stepping forward. Why was he…
Astrid stepped forward, determined to follow him.
The traitor moved forward, getting ready for his last radio signal. Quickly pushing the buttons necessary, he spoke. “This is the traitor of the Xavier Team, Code Name 2352 calling in. Do you read me?”
“This is the Watcher, Code Name 2532 responding,” the voice finally came crackling through. “Why are you calling me?”
“They have broken through to the caves below,” he replied. “How soon will it be until you arrive?”
Astrid drew closer. Who was he calling to at this hour? And who was he calling to? She moved forward around the crag, about to ask him what he was doing, and then stopped. His voice was different—deeper. And there was an edge to his voice—one that she had never heard before.
And, suddenly, a horrible pit forming in her stomach, Astrid took off running.
There was a sudden noise in the background—the sign of an eavesdropper. He was being watched. Suddenly, fear jolting through his senses, the traitor spun around to see a dark shadow moving. This wasn’t according to plan. And, charging forward, the traitor drew his sword, ready to stop the threat.
Astrid looked back, blinking as brilliant light from the corsha blade shown towards her.
“Stop!” Astrid shrieked, as everything seemed to fall to pieces around her. “What are you-” But he didn’t stop. Firing one bullet behind her, which he quickly blocked with the corsha blade, she took off running, even though she knew it was faster with him.
“Red alert!” Astrid shrieked into the walkie talkie, hoping that someone was up at the ship. “This is Astrid calling in—I’m south of the ship and am being chased by the traitor! Someone get over here fast!”
Number 994 sprang up, thoughts running through his senses as he received the message that was sent into the ship, thankful that he had slept while connecting himself to the ship. Astrid was in trouble.
“Get up!” he roared, placing his hand on the light switch and electronically turning all the lights on. “Astrid’s in trouble!”
Heart pounding, Astrid charged forward, sweat running down her forehead, as pure adrenaline drove her senses. He was catching up. And Astrid knew that if he caught up to her, he was going to kill her. What had happened to him? It couldn’t be—could it? Was it possible that he had been the traitor all along? And after all that they’d been through together…
Slipping, Astrid skidded, flying forward as she landed hard on the ground, rolling over to see him coming up closer. In desperation, she fired the bullet, trying to ignore the fact that she was shooting a gun at the person who had once been her friend, even while knowing that he would easily block it, which he did. Scooting backwards, she watched as he leapt forward, preparing herself for the impact which was sure to come.
But it never came.
A bolt of lightning suddenly struck the traitor in the chest, throwing him back as the corsha blades flew from his hands. Hitting the ground, still shocked that he had been attacked, the traitor leapt up again only to be hit by another lightning strike, before collapsing to the ground. It was over.
Monty gripped Astrid tightly in her arms as she wept, while pointing his gun at Flek, lying stunned on the ground, feeling ready to pound the goblin into the dust for almost killing his sister.
“Why did you do it?” Monty asked viciously as Flek seemed to regain consciousness. “Why did you betray us?”
Flek groaned, looking up. “Wha…” he began, looking confused. “Where am…”
“Don’t play stupid with us,” Monty spat.
"Let’s be tactful,” Jroldin said, stepping between the two of them as his eyes flashed. “You are under questioning Flek for your treasonous acts and for your attempted murder of Astrid. As the Priest-king, I claim the role of judge. Why have you done this?”
“I…” Flek said, still looking confused. “What do you mean? I… I just fell asleep, and…”
“I will destroy you.” The foreign voice emitted from Flek’s lips as he contorted, before it broke, Flek suddenly stumbling back as realization filled his eyes.
“No!” Flek cried out, now in a normal voice. “I thought—no—you said that-”
"Who said what?” Reynyagn asked.
“No!” Flek cried, rolling as if he was grappling with some invisible foe. “Don’t—you can’t-”
Suddenly, his pupils went black, and Flek sprung up, arms outstretched, looking ready to kill. A bolt of lightning again felled him to the ground before Reynyagn and Augger sprung forward, pinning him down as Jroldin forward.
“You will never win!” the deep menacing voice came out of Flek’s mouth. “You will be destroyed. All of you will fall under my-”
“No!” Flek’s voice again emerged. “You can’t have control of me! Let me…”
“I. Am. The real Flek.” Beads of sweat began to emerge on his forehead.
“What is wrong with him?” Reynyagn asked, looking agitated, as he looked toward Jroldin for guidance. “In all my years-“
“I can’t keep him back for much longer!” Flek cried out, again in a normal voice. “I… can’t…”
Jroldin stepped back, feeling caught by all the attention suddenly thrust on him after he tried to take his role as the Priest-King. What was he supposed to do now, with Flek grappling with some imaginary foe? What was he supposed to do? Anxiety beat into him as he realized that he didn’t have much time, Flek again clawing at the ground as his pupils blackened. Fretting, Jroldin was about to give up when suddenly, a wave of peace passed through him, as he recounted the words of the general prophesy, and of the words of the prophesy specific to him to mind.
He was to be the Priest-King.
“Stop,” Jroldin said, stepping forward as he glared at Flek—or at whoever had taken control over him. “Your reign over Flek is over.”
Question of the Day: What is Jroldin's solution?
Date: Kapton 12th, 114 A.U.
Astrid rolled, unable to fall asleep. They had broken through into the cave late last night and had decided to wait until morning to break in. But, both curious about what they were about to find, and still awake after a boring day, she was still awake.
Restless, she left her chambers, exiting the ship as she stood in the cool night air. A shadow moved in the distance, and Astrid’s hand reached for her gun, slowly stepping forward. Why was he…
Astrid stepped forward, determined to follow him.
The traitor moved forward, getting ready for his last radio signal. Quickly pushing the buttons necessary, he spoke. “This is the traitor of the Xavier Team, Code Name 2352 calling in. Do you read me?”
“This is the Watcher, Code Name 2532 responding,” the voice finally came crackling through. “Why are you calling me?”
“They have broken through to the caves below,” he replied. “How soon will it be until you arrive?”
Astrid drew closer. Who was he calling to at this hour? And who was he calling to? She moved forward around the crag, about to ask him what he was doing, and then stopped. His voice was different—deeper. And there was an edge to his voice—one that she had never heard before.
And, suddenly, a horrible pit forming in her stomach, Astrid took off running.
There was a sudden noise in the background—the sign of an eavesdropper. He was being watched. Suddenly, fear jolting through his senses, the traitor spun around to see a dark shadow moving. This wasn’t according to plan. And, charging forward, the traitor drew his sword, ready to stop the threat.
Astrid looked back, blinking as brilliant light from the corsha blade shown towards her.
“Stop!” Astrid shrieked, as everything seemed to fall to pieces around her. “What are you-” But he didn’t stop. Firing one bullet behind her, which he quickly blocked with the corsha blade, she took off running, even though she knew it was faster with him.
“Red alert!” Astrid shrieked into the walkie talkie, hoping that someone was up at the ship. “This is Astrid calling in—I’m south of the ship and am being chased by the traitor! Someone get over here fast!”
Number 994 sprang up, thoughts running through his senses as he received the message that was sent into the ship, thankful that he had slept while connecting himself to the ship. Astrid was in trouble.
“Get up!” he roared, placing his hand on the light switch and electronically turning all the lights on. “Astrid’s in trouble!”
Heart pounding, Astrid charged forward, sweat running down her forehead, as pure adrenaline drove her senses. He was catching up. And Astrid knew that if he caught up to her, he was going to kill her. What had happened to him? It couldn’t be—could it? Was it possible that he had been the traitor all along? And after all that they’d been through together…
Slipping, Astrid skidded, flying forward as she landed hard on the ground, rolling over to see him coming up closer. In desperation, she fired the bullet, trying to ignore the fact that she was shooting a gun at the person who had once been her friend, even while knowing that he would easily block it, which he did. Scooting backwards, she watched as he leapt forward, preparing herself for the impact which was sure to come.
But it never came.
A bolt of lightning suddenly struck the traitor in the chest, throwing him back as the corsha blades flew from his hands. Hitting the ground, still shocked that he had been attacked, the traitor leapt up again only to be hit by another lightning strike, before collapsing to the ground. It was over.
Monty gripped Astrid tightly in her arms as she wept, while pointing his gun at Flek, lying stunned on the ground, feeling ready to pound the goblin into the dust for almost killing his sister.
“Why did you do it?” Monty asked viciously as Flek seemed to regain consciousness. “Why did you betray us?”
Flek groaned, looking up. “Wha…” he began, looking confused. “Where am…”
“Don’t play stupid with us,” Monty spat.
"Let’s be tactful,” Jroldin said, stepping between the two of them as his eyes flashed. “You are under questioning Flek for your treasonous acts and for your attempted murder of Astrid. As the Priest-king, I claim the role of judge. Why have you done this?”
“I…” Flek said, still looking confused. “What do you mean? I… I just fell asleep, and…”
“I will destroy you.” The foreign voice emitted from Flek’s lips as he contorted, before it broke, Flek suddenly stumbling back as realization filled his eyes.
“No!” Flek cried out, now in a normal voice. “I thought—no—you said that-”
"Who said what?” Reynyagn asked.
“No!” Flek cried, rolling as if he was grappling with some invisible foe. “Don’t—you can’t-”
Suddenly, his pupils went black, and Flek sprung up, arms outstretched, looking ready to kill. A bolt of lightning again felled him to the ground before Reynyagn and Augger sprung forward, pinning him down as Jroldin forward.
“You will never win!” the deep menacing voice came out of Flek’s mouth. “You will be destroyed. All of you will fall under my-”
“No!” Flek’s voice again emerged. “You can’t have control of me! Let me…”
“I. Am. The real Flek.” Beads of sweat began to emerge on his forehead.
“What is wrong with him?” Reynyagn asked, looking agitated, as he looked toward Jroldin for guidance. “In all my years-“
“I can’t keep him back for much longer!” Flek cried out, again in a normal voice. “I… can’t…”
Jroldin stepped back, feeling caught by all the attention suddenly thrust on him after he tried to take his role as the Priest-King. What was he supposed to do now, with Flek grappling with some imaginary foe? What was he supposed to do? Anxiety beat into him as he realized that he didn’t have much time, Flek again clawing at the ground as his pupils blackened. Fretting, Jroldin was about to give up when suddenly, a wave of peace passed through him, as he recounted the words of the general prophesy, and of the words of the prophesy specific to him to mind.
He was to be the Priest-King.
“Stop,” Jroldin said, stepping forward as he glared at Flek—or at whoever had taken control over him. “Your reign over Flek is over.”
Question of the Day: What is Jroldin's solution?
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