Part 7: Darkness Follows

As they traveled the next morning, they noticed the terrain smoothing out. Sekhmet could feel that they were headed in the right direction. Oshay and Sekhmet soon found themselves on a rugged road headed towards a small village. Sekhmet figured that they would reach the general area he desired by the evening if they didn’t linger too long in the village. A dark figure emerged from the shadow of the trees, blocking their path.

“Is this a private party, or can anyone join in?”

Kale! “What are you doing here?”

“Following you, obviously. I traveled here the easy way, though. The Mirror of Tartoros allowed me to keep an eye on you. I waited a day or so and then had it teleport me to your location. I saved myself a lot of useless walking and senseless chatter that way.” He bowed to Oshay, taking her hand. “I saw this incredible woman as well. Unfortunately, the Mirror does not transmit sound and I missed the introductions.”

“This is Oshay. My…niece.”

Kale smirked. “Is that what they call it now?” Oshay punched him square in the jaw. He fell hard to the ground.

Sekhmet looked at Oshay appreciatively. “Very nice, thank you. You saved me the trouble.” He looked down at Kale who was slowly getting to his feet. His tone was menacingly casual. “She is my niece, related by blood. I will attribute your comment to your natural tendency to say idiotic things without thinking. But insult her again, and I will crush every bone in your body. Now you’ve told me how you got here, but you didn’t tell me why you came.”

Kale rubbed his jaw. “Let’s say I was bored…and curious. You’ve been acting strangely all week. Now you trek the countryside fighting lizard-things and meeting beautiful young warrior-women.” He nodded to Oshay with a wary eye. “Your exploits are far more interesting than listening to insignificant Dynasty lords whine about their harvest problems. Kayura and Dais are much better suited to handling such trivialities.”

“You are a terrible liar, Kale.” Sekhmet sighed. “I do not suppose you will leave if I tell you to?”

“Of course not. I go where I please. And right now, it please me to head in this direction—the same way you are going.”

Oshay laughed at Sekhmet’s put-upon expression. “Uncle. You might as well give up. It seems you are not going to get your way on anything this week.”

“Hmmph!” He did not want to argue with her, but he would get his way on at least one thing. There was something he wanted very badly—the H’ris. Nothing and no one would stop him. He gave Kale a cursory glance out of the corner of his eye. “Do as you wish, just stay out of my way.” A troubling thought floated to the surface of Sekhmet’s mind—he had threatened Kale for insulting Oshay. At what point had she begun to matter to him?

The three of them walked towards the village. Sekhmet suddenly had a very bad feeling. Kale and Oshay seemed on edge, as well. He called forth his armor, the others following his lead. It was too quiet. They were close enough that the sounds from the village should be reaching them. There was nothing.

They entered the village square. Not a person was in sight in what was always the busiest part of any community. There were also signs of fighting--fruit stands overturned, animals running loose, doors kicked open. Sekhmet cautiously made his way into one of the abandoned buildings. The mess inside made it appear to him that the inhabitants had been dragged out in a fierce struggle.

“Sekhmet! Oshay!” The sound of Kale’s voice broke the unnatural stillness that lay over the town. Sekhmet ran out into the street, meeting up with Oshay who had also been exploring another home. They hurried down the street and around a group of long buildings to where Kale had gone. Sekhmet was stopped in his tracks by a sight that made him sick inside--the charred remains of several dozen people tied to posts. Sekhmet had never seen the bodies of his parents. He’d joined Talpa and was instantly teleported away. But this is how they must have looked when they died. He could just make out some of the strange markings carved into the chests and backs of a few of the corpses. The H’ris had been here. He touched his own chest, almost feeling his own scars burning through his armor.

Kale was on one knee, strangely silent as he stared at the poles. This scene reminded him too much of the way he and his mother and sister had found his father. Kale quickly suppressed the memory (for Kale’s story see “Into the Darkness”, part of SW6: Ghosts to Rest). Slowly he stood and took a deep breath. “No one should be remembered like this—hung up on display for the amusement of others.” He drew his sword. “BLACK LIGHTNING SLASH!” He shot off black bolts that scattered in every direction. Kale blasted and blasted until every post had been knocked down and destroyed, until every corpse had been burnt to ashes. He turned to Sekhmet. “You know what happened here, don’t you?”

Sekhmet stared off in the distance. He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Yes. The H’ris were here. Those lizard people you saw Oshay and I fight a few days ago. This is their work.”

Oshay was stunned. “But why? What did these people do to them to deserve such a fate?”

“They existed. H’ris have always hated humans with obsessive ferocity. To them, humans are at best lowly animals who don’t know their place in the universe. The H’ris believe that they are the only sentient creatures worthy of the gift of life. All other races are good for one thing only—sacrifice to their snake god, S’rpes.”

“And these people…things…are our relatives? How can that be? Kataran and Mimsara were benevolent and generous. You’re not like them, either.”

Sekhmet frowned at that. Even after he had told Oshay something about his own life, she still did not seem to understand that while he’d served Talpa, he had been as cruel and vicious as any H’ris. “That is because our mother had a very forgiving, open heart. Our father, even though he was H’ris, hated senseless violence. He taught us how to fight, but he hoped we would never have to. He was an outcast because he talked of making peace with humans. His ideas were blasphemous to the others and he was sentenced to die. My parents gave me all the heritage I need. Like Talpa, the H’ris have only given me a legacy of pain and death. One I will share with them. This way.”

They picked up a few supplies and followed Sekhmet out of the village. Oshay looked over at Kale. He was looking back at her. She did not know this man, but she could tell from his eyes that he was worried for Sekhmet, though he would never say so. She was worried, too. Sekhmet had this tendency to turn cold when he did not want to face something painful. She had only known him three days, but she could tell that about him. He had done it several times around her. What would happen when they found the H’ris lands? Where was the line between justice and revenge?