Dargo

Chapter One-Hundred-Forty-Six: Echoes Of Regret - Part Three

Quadrant: Darna Quadrant

Government: Talum Merchant Federation

System: D-447

Planet: Ora

Location: Orarak City, Facility below the Colosseum, Floor 16

***

The Night before the Grand Hunt's First Challenge

***

"Hunters, you are permitted to sleep. Rest well, tomorrow it begins," I say to the Kuwathi warriors gathered, they have all improved greatly in the last week. As they all begin to leave, I find Kalon's attention and motion for him to come to me.

There are words I must say, lest regret follow. After the others leave, I speak.

"Have you figured it out?" I ask him.

"Figured out what Keeper?" he asks me, there is defiance in his tone.

"Why I push you more than the rest."

"I have not, Keeper."

"Because within you, I see potential ready to burst forth."

His face changes, an aura of anger swells in the mana around him, "Within you, I see the man who brought those I care for to a place of suffering. Surely you know the things that Mallock did to them… now again I see you, here, holding your boot to my people's neck."

I did not know what would become of them, not until I asked my apprentice to investigate, once I saw his emaciated body. What she described based on the documentation, his body is unique in some way and they were studying it. I had originally assumed that it was to control Ravena's heir, because that is what Leora told me. She never tells full truths though. Even after all these years, that woman loves her secrets.

Whatever happened to him, is not my burden to bear, so I ask, "And?"

His anger is replaced by confusion, so I will enlighten him with a little history.

"Your people, the Kuwathi. They are not free of sin."

His anger returns, "They are not free at all. How can you judge them? You who sits in luxury and watches our suffering. You are strong, yet you still do nothing when you see injustice."

"Injustice?" I ask, shaking my head, "Someday, if you survive that is, you may understand that your people once held the whip. Time does not forget, nor does it forgive, it remembers all cruelty equally."

Memories that I have buried begin to rise to the surface of my mind. When I was his age, the galaxy was far different. The Kuwathi were cruel masters. I do not weep for the purge they felt, for they purged many. A people destined for war. I remember a time when being Arasha was akin to being less than dirt. We look like them, yet they did not claim us, nor do we claim them now. They used the glow of their eyes to signify their own superiority.

Their fall was not quick. Which made it that much sweeter to watch. Most have forgotten… I have not. I will not.

My thoughts fall into memories once more, it wasn't until Amon became my apprentice that I stopped seeing them all as demons. That I made room in my heart for forgiveness. After his son was born, and grew old enough to learn the way of will, I remember seeing him teach the boy in the same way that I taught him… I press the memories away.

I focus myself once more, "You have potential," I walk around him in a circle, as my master did to me, "It is trapped, held down by the distilled pain you carry for things you cannot control."

Words that I was not ready to hear when I was his age. For thousands of years I hated them with everything I was. I feel that same hate in him. Hate born from oppression.

"You are not a god, you are a man. And a man need only feel the pain of what he can control, or else the madness will consume him."

He hears me, at least part of him does.

"You must crawl through the darkness to find the light if you wish to bloom," I say, returning to the pedestal in the center of the room.

The anger swells again, as though he is rejecting my words on principle.

"I will find the Etheric boundary and I will shatter it, and then I will shatter you."

His words catch me off guard, causing me to laugh, "It is not possible to break both, you cannot step off one path of mana and move to another. Not even the gods can do such a thing. It is hubris to think you can."

Too many gods have believed themselves able to be the bridge between both forms of mana. For a mortal to think they could, it is beyond preposterous, it enters the realm of humor.

"I have felt it, and I will break them all, then you, then your Inquisitor, then your society, and even your gods," Kalon says. There is so much drive in his anger. He really is like me when I was his age. Like Amon even. Full of rage to change what cannot be changed.

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I shake my head, I must dispel these delusions, "What you feel is the calm before death, if you try and step into both, it will tear your soul apart. It cannot be done. No matter how much you wish it could."

His cold yellow eyes almost feel like they pierce the soul.

"We shall see."

I scoff, shaking my head as the pedestal rises to my private quarters.

"Do not die tomorrow, I will feel very foolish if you do," I grin.

Letting out a sigh, I step off the pedestal once it reaches my quarters, I give a bow to the statue of my master's Goddess. The likeness does not do her justice with her face covered, when I was young he used to tell me of her beauty being peerless. Glancing at the weapons adorning the walls, I remember their former wielders fondly. I carry their dreams now. After all these years, I have not forgotten them, nor their sacrifices.

As I pour myself a cup of tea, I feel a familiar presence entering my perception. My mouth hazards a grin as I pour another cup. My Goddess appears before me, sitting across the table. She looks at the statue of the Goddess, a look of jealousy before she speaks into my mind.

Why do you still pay deference to her?

"It is who my master worships," I say, sipping at my tea cup, "I keep it as a reminder that even the strongest can fall while having noble intentions."

Do you really need a reminder of that?

"You're just in time for tea," I say, ignoring her jealousy, and pushing a cup toward her.

She gives me a smile and pretends to blow on it, as though it were too hot. It brings some happiness to my heart that she still has not lost her sense of humor, we have seen much together, she and I. Even if I wish to be rid of her some days, part of me always cares for her despite myself. Perhaps it is conditioned after so many years serving her.

You have taken an interest in some of them I noticed.

I sip from my tea, waiting for what comes. We have done this dance before, many times. Finally, she speaks her true intent.

What did you make of the Spark Bearer?

Putting down my teacup, "I assume you mean the boy that you've been guiding?"

She nods, putting her head in her hands, her blue eyes sparkle with interest.

"I did not feel the spark in him. Perhaps you were mistaken."

I have seen it with my own eyes, each time he touched Dashkatul there was a reaction.

My hand tightens, she already forced it upon him. Why be surprised. A smile envelops her face as she stares back at me, I pick up my teacup and sip from it for a moment before speaking.

"Fate's Prison reacts to any foolish enough to give it their blood." I say, I already know where she leads the conversation, but I will humor her, I owe this to her, even if reluctantly.

It was more than that, I felt the one that slumbers deep within stirring.

She speaks of Zarae, Goddess of Destiny. The one that Fate's Prison was made to trap. Or so the legend goes. The truth of it, I fear we mortals will never know. It is more fable and myth than truth in my opinion. The stories that my master once told me, they were told to him by his Goddess, Krotha. Stories that spoke of this ancient prophecy that the old gods passed down before their fall. A warning of what would come to pass if it was not stopped.

"If all those before him did not stir her from her slumber, what makes you think this one will be any different?" I ask, sipping from my cup again, trying hard to not roll my eyes. She felt what she wanted to feel, not reality. Yet another who will be claimed by the blade and fed to Krotha's corruption.

That which could be—will always seek—That which will be

"Still holding out hope for that old prophecy," I chuckle, "you never learn, my Goddess. It is not real. Fate's seal cannot be broken. If it could, Krotha would have done so ages ago and freed herself."

You always were a cynic, I see little has changed after all these years.

"How many will this make? Thousands of promising souls, only nine were capable of even retaining some of their faculties, yet you think this one has a chance? Forgive me Goddess, but I do not see the wisdom in it," I say, my mood souring, "He has not even approached the fifth boundary, yet you wish to see him crushed by forces he cannot even comprehend?"

He could break it, if his body were strong enough to hold it.

I know she is much wiser than me, but I also know after many years with her that she is often led astray by hope. Countless times she has led me down this path, and countless times it has ended in the same place. Bringing me sorrowful memories I wish I did not have.

There is something different about him, open your eyes you stubborn old fool.

"I see he has potential, but so did many others," a sudden wave of sadness grips me as I recall some of those whom I personally trained. Their deaths weigh heavily on my soul, as I know they surely suffer within Fate's Prison still.

Open your eyes fully and you will see what we have seen.

My hand stops as I hold my cup nearly to my mouth. Lingering on the word 'we', there are others who have taken interest. There is a sick feeling rising in me, the last time others besides her were involved in this idle fantasy… it was not good for this Realm. My thoughts turn to Amon, the failure weighing more heavily on me.

"Goddess, what have you done?"

Her eyes flash.

It was not I that started this. Do not blame me for rain that falls from the sky.

"Who started it?"

Kuwathi herself.

I blink at the information. She has been missing for many thousands of years. Longer than Krotha even. How could she be involved? No one has seen her since…

You seem unwilling to help me, dearest Dargo. Perhaps I should enlist your apprentice, she is quite resourceful now that she has become the heir apparent of house Draconis.

My gaze falls, "I told you, I will do as you ask. What are your orders, Goddess?"

He will need a regular supply of Etherius Prism Flower, else my sister will find a way to claim him. She set her hooks deep into him, and we want them removed before he passes the fifth bound.

"Who is this… we?"

She smiles, tilting her head.

When you're ready to know, I will tell you more. What I will say is that we are not the only ones taking interest now. Ravena has seen him, she has not told the other gods… yet. I suspect she may try to claim him for herself. Be wary, Ravena's plethora of champions are stronger than they were a thousand years ago. She has amassed considerable power.

"Perhaps if you focused on growing a House instead of throwing souls onto the pyre, you would not have to worry about her or anyone else, Goddess."

I have missed your chastisements, dearest Dargo. Do not fail me. Even your old master has taken an interest in him. It would be a shame for you to disappoint him… again.

"What?" I look up at her again, "My master, he is involved?"

She smiles and then disappears, leaving her steaming cup of tea by itself. Leaving me with more questions than I had before. My master has not involved himself in the affairs of people in millennia, nor the plans of Leora. He still blames her for Amon's fall. Why is he interested in this boy? What is at play? First Kuwathi, and now him. Names that haven't moved on the board in ages.

He does not like Leora, he never cared about Kuwathi or any of her Pantheon, besides Krotha, he would not return from seclusion to help them. Then there can be only one reason… does he really think this boy can free Krotha?

Thinking back, she said each time he touched Dashkatul… how many times has he wielded it? The most a mortal has ever used it and not been consumed is three times. That was my Master. A soul who could pass the last mortal bound any moment he wished. He only stays in our realm for the hope that someday she will be free.

What god's spark does this Kalon boy carry to garner so much interest?

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