Well, Warbaron has had a successful prediction, but will he be right in his next? Let's see...
Part CIV: The Last Act of the Priest-King
Date: Kapton 12th, 114 A.U.
“Flek is gone,” the unearthly voice hissed. “He has no power over his body anymore! He has sold himself to me and to me he shall ever remain!”
“Nay,” Jroldin said, stepping forward to bend down over Flek. “But by the power of the Priest-King, I will fulfill my purpose. Your reign over Flek is over.” Reaching up, Jroldin hoped behind hope and grasped the ethereal circlet, taking it off. To his wonder, his hands, although they felt emptiness, now held the circlet.
“No!” the voice hissed. “It isn’t possible! You can’t-” But Jroldin, ignoring the voice, pushed the circlet down on Flek’s struggling head. Immediately, there was a flash of light as Jroldin moved his hands back. There was a smell of burning as ethereal flames of fire licked the circlet, Flek’s body convulsing. Out from the circlet, there rose an ethereal being in the shape of an elf, now cloaked with flames, who pointed at them, trying to say something before there was a rushing of wind. The spirit flew back, and suddenly all was silent. And Flek’s body fell limp.
Reynyagn and Augger stepped back. “Did...” Reynyagn say, looking at Flek’s lifeless body. “Is—Is Flek-” He stopped, unable to say the word. And then Flek’s body moved, his head turning, as slowly Flek opened his eyes into the moonlight, and at those around him.
“I… I met him at the Mothertree years ago,” Flek said quietly as everyone around him listened. “He promised me to give me power and skill beyond that of a goblin’s natural ability if I would let him in. And… And I did. I was a weak goblin before that, one who wanted so much, and so I accepted him. I have come to regret that choice.”
Reynyagn pursed his lips. “But… but you didn’t know… You didn’t realize he had that much control over you?”
“I always knew that he could,” Flek said quietly. “Part of the deal was that I’d let him take control of my body at some points so that he could experience it again. But I was always able to stop him—or so I thought. He always needed my permission, and after we learned there was a traitor, I thought this might be it, but he swore he wouldn’t take control over me anymore. He said that he’d leave. But…”
“He didn’t,” Monty said, a tone of disgust in his voice. “And you believed him.”
“I know,” Flek said quietly. “He must have taken control over me while I was sleeping. And I… I was completely unaware of it…”
“Well,” Reynyagn finally said after a long pause. “I suspect we all already know without explaining how catastrophic that was—and how much worse it could have been had it not been inverted. Either way, from what Astrid said, the elves likely know our plans. And, for better or for worse, the Priest-King circlet is now permanently on Flek’s head.”
“I can see it,” Jroldin finally said, looking up. “It’s on his head—but I can still see it.”
Brother Tomas turned toward him. “Does… does that mean?”
“Aye,” Jroldin replied. “I have finally put my faith in the Great One.”
Reynyagn lurched to the side as four swords suddenly swung up at him on the floor, bouncing off of them as his shadowy form moved to the ground.
“It’s really a good thing that we have you here,” Astrid said as Reynyagn moved around the swords, the others slowly following behind. “If we didn’t have you, and if the Sla’ad hadn’t made all their traps Sla’ad proof.”
“Well, that’s why the prophesy called for one from each race,” Reynyagn replied, bouncing his hand off of one of the sword blades before moving on. “For situations such as this.” This was the fourth trap that they had so far encountered while going through the Caves of Dragla, further proof that the Sla’ad had hidden the Arglem here.
“Either way, we really need to get out of here soon,” Monty said, glancing at his watch. “We don’t know how much longer we have before the elves get here.”
“We can fight them back,” Astrid said. “I mean—we nearly defeated them at the Citadel of Tzel-Maret.”
“Yes, but then we also had all of my fighting power,” Flek reminded her. “I still had the being strengthening my skills. And believe me. Without them, I’m a worse fighter than Jroldin.”
“I find it hard to believe that,” Jroldin muttered. Everyone laughed.
The elven ship slowly hissed down, gaining a secure footing before the door opened and the elven guards came marching out, bearing guns and fire-sticks as Emperor Jaigran and the Watcher stepped down in the midst of them.
“They likely know that we’re coming,” the Watcher said solemnly. “After gaining all my memories from the other part of myself that inhabited Flek, I believe they are smart enough to figure out who I, through Flek, had been calling in the middle of the night.”
“It matters not,” Jaigran said, beating the air with his wings as he rose up. “Guards! Surround the hole—the only entrance into the Caves of Dragla! Fixate our heaviest artillery there, and then we go in. They’ll be traps like rats in a hole. And there’ll be no escape.”
“The elves!” Zarien said, ducking to the side. “They’ve found them!”
“And from the looks of it, they know that the rest of the team is down there,” Sereth said with growing horror as she watched as they began setting up heavy guns and cannons around the drilled-in entrance to the Caves of Dragla. “Look at how they’re pointing all of the guns down! Given everything else we heard-”
“They trapped like rats in hole,” Hazael said solemnly. “Unless we stop them, the rest of the Xavier Team is doomed.”
Question of the Day: How will the Xavier Team escape their predicament?
Part CIV: The Last Act of the Priest-King
Date: Kapton 12th, 114 A.U.
“Flek is gone,” the unearthly voice hissed. “He has no power over his body anymore! He has sold himself to me and to me he shall ever remain!”
“Nay,” Jroldin said, stepping forward to bend down over Flek. “But by the power of the Priest-King, I will fulfill my purpose. Your reign over Flek is over.” Reaching up, Jroldin hoped behind hope and grasped the ethereal circlet, taking it off. To his wonder, his hands, although they felt emptiness, now held the circlet.
“No!” the voice hissed. “It isn’t possible! You can’t-” But Jroldin, ignoring the voice, pushed the circlet down on Flek’s struggling head. Immediately, there was a flash of light as Jroldin moved his hands back. There was a smell of burning as ethereal flames of fire licked the circlet, Flek’s body convulsing. Out from the circlet, there rose an ethereal being in the shape of an elf, now cloaked with flames, who pointed at them, trying to say something before there was a rushing of wind. The spirit flew back, and suddenly all was silent. And Flek’s body fell limp.
Reynyagn and Augger stepped back. “Did...” Reynyagn say, looking at Flek’s lifeless body. “Is—Is Flek-” He stopped, unable to say the word. And then Flek’s body moved, his head turning, as slowly Flek opened his eyes into the moonlight, and at those around him.
“I… I met him at the Mothertree years ago,” Flek said quietly as everyone around him listened. “He promised me to give me power and skill beyond that of a goblin’s natural ability if I would let him in. And… And I did. I was a weak goblin before that, one who wanted so much, and so I accepted him. I have come to regret that choice.”
Reynyagn pursed his lips. “But… but you didn’t know… You didn’t realize he had that much control over you?”
“I always knew that he could,” Flek said quietly. “Part of the deal was that I’d let him take control of my body at some points so that he could experience it again. But I was always able to stop him—or so I thought. He always needed my permission, and after we learned there was a traitor, I thought this might be it, but he swore he wouldn’t take control over me anymore. He said that he’d leave. But…”
“He didn’t,” Monty said, a tone of disgust in his voice. “And you believed him.”
“I know,” Flek said quietly. “He must have taken control over me while I was sleeping. And I… I was completely unaware of it…”
“Well,” Reynyagn finally said after a long pause. “I suspect we all already know without explaining how catastrophic that was—and how much worse it could have been had it not been inverted. Either way, from what Astrid said, the elves likely know our plans. And, for better or for worse, the Priest-King circlet is now permanently on Flek’s head.”
“I can see it,” Jroldin finally said, looking up. “It’s on his head—but I can still see it.”
Brother Tomas turned toward him. “Does… does that mean?”
“Aye,” Jroldin replied. “I have finally put my faith in the Great One.”
Reynyagn lurched to the side as four swords suddenly swung up at him on the floor, bouncing off of them as his shadowy form moved to the ground.
“It’s really a good thing that we have you here,” Astrid said as Reynyagn moved around the swords, the others slowly following behind. “If we didn’t have you, and if the Sla’ad hadn’t made all their traps Sla’ad proof.”
“Well, that’s why the prophesy called for one from each race,” Reynyagn replied, bouncing his hand off of one of the sword blades before moving on. “For situations such as this.” This was the fourth trap that they had so far encountered while going through the Caves of Dragla, further proof that the Sla’ad had hidden the Arglem here.
“Either way, we really need to get out of here soon,” Monty said, glancing at his watch. “We don’t know how much longer we have before the elves get here.”
“We can fight them back,” Astrid said. “I mean—we nearly defeated them at the Citadel of Tzel-Maret.”
“Yes, but then we also had all of my fighting power,” Flek reminded her. “I still had the being strengthening my skills. And believe me. Without them, I’m a worse fighter than Jroldin.”
“I find it hard to believe that,” Jroldin muttered. Everyone laughed.
The elven ship slowly hissed down, gaining a secure footing before the door opened and the elven guards came marching out, bearing guns and fire-sticks as Emperor Jaigran and the Watcher stepped down in the midst of them.
“They likely know that we’re coming,” the Watcher said solemnly. “After gaining all my memories from the other part of myself that inhabited Flek, I believe they are smart enough to figure out who I, through Flek, had been calling in the middle of the night.”
“It matters not,” Jaigran said, beating the air with his wings as he rose up. “Guards! Surround the hole—the only entrance into the Caves of Dragla! Fixate our heaviest artillery there, and then we go in. They’ll be traps like rats in a hole. And there’ll be no escape.”
“The elves!” Zarien said, ducking to the side. “They’ve found them!”
“And from the looks of it, they know that the rest of the team is down there,” Sereth said with growing horror as she watched as they began setting up heavy guns and cannons around the drilled-in entrance to the Caves of Dragla. “Look at how they’re pointing all of the guns down! Given everything else we heard-”
“They trapped like rats in hole,” Hazael said solemnly. “Unless we stop them, the rest of the Xavier Team is doomed.”
Question of the Day: How will the Xavier Team escape their predicament?
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