The Ring Thief - Chapter 9 - Genesis

Chapter 9 - Genesis

The shouts of the apostles were practically on their backs as they rushed into the city. But thanks to a few of Ohen’s magical firewalls, they managed to lose them long enough to make their way to the guild district, a large encirclement of towers surrounding a central garden plaza. But to Tex and Sham’s dismay, the renowned guild spires were not what they once were. Once bustling with members from different organizations across the world, the plaza was now vacant; the towers unkempt and abandoned. Tex was particularly frustrated when they came up to the Algadrian Order’s local headquarters. Its door, once a brilliant ornamental design of a golden dragon head, was caked in a massive red “X.” Beneath it was a wrinkled parchment of piss-yellow paper that read:

To those whom this concerns:

The Algadrian Order and all sympathizers of the demihuman

scourge will be executed on sight. Those who ignore this

decree will suffer the wrath of Lunas herself.

“Bastards,” Tex grit her teeth and tore the parchment from the door.

“What now?” Taenith asked, looking over his shoulder. He could still hear the heavy footsteps of the deacon and her minions in the near distance. There was still only a street’s worth of distance between the two. It would only be a matter of time before they were found again.

“Same plan,” Sham said, approaching the door. On its handle was a heavy-duty lock often used in prisons.

“Not sure I can break that,” Taenith said.

Sham smirked. “No need, friend,” he said, raising a hand to the lock. Within seconds, its bulky metal was reduced to a molten ooze, dripping onto the ground before evaporating into dust. Then, the door glowed with a faint golden hue, and the red paint fell like ash from a dying fire. 

“A decade’s worth of protection spells went into this. It won’t be so easily vandalized,” he smirked.

         Tex pushed the door open, and ushered the others in. But when Grizzel attempted to enter, she confronted him with a finger aimed at his chest; fire in her emerald eyes. He looked down, but hardly reacted. At that moment, the failed apostle felt nothing but contempt for himself, and regret for betraying his friends.

         “Tex, not now,” Sham said. 

Ignoring the confrontation, Taenith carried Han into the tower. To his surprise, it was probably one of the coziest buildings he’d been in. The floors were sleek and polished chocolate hardwood. Occupying it were a few chairs and one couch - all bound in clean, unblemished leather - that sat before a singular cobble hearth that breathed magical, smokeless fire. On the other side of the room - exactly parallel to the hearth - was a fully stocked and polished bar. Rows and rows of ale bottles sat untouched behind a glass case, except for the few that were currently sitting on the counter…with wooden tankards beside them, half filled, as if someone had been drinking out of them recently. 

         Taenith’s thoughts were broken when he heard Tex say with her characteristic near-growl, “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t gut you right now.”  But what happened to Grizzel was of no priority to him at that moment. As far as he was concerned, the entire situation they were in was his fault. The human phrase ‘I told you so’ itched at the back of his brain, reminding him that placing any trust in an apostle was a bad idea. And yet… 

He rested Han’s head on his lap. It was strange how weak humans felt when they were up close. When he was sure the bowman was okay, he decided to at least listen to what the others were saying. 

         “We don’t have time for this!” Sham said, pulling both Tex and Grizzel indoors, slamming the door shut before anyone could notice the commotion.

         “What the hell, old man?” Tex protested.  

         “That can wait until we get out of here alive,” Sham said, his jaw stiff as he spoke.

         Without a response, Tex opened and left behind another door leading to the basement. Sham rubbed his temples and tried to think. 

         “Gods, everything is falling apart…” he thought to himself as he tried to come up with a plan to escape. The streets would be flooding with reinforcements in minutes and the only way out was through the gates.

         “Sham?” Taenith asked.

         “What?” he almost snapped.

         Taenith raised a brow at the wizard. 

“Apologies,” Sham gave a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m getting too old for this.” We approached the side of the couch. “Is he alright?”

         “For now,” Taenith replied with a light rasp - his throat dry after their previous encounter. 

“Try not to worry. He should wake soon,” Han smirked.

Taenith nodded, watching Grizzel sulk over to one of the chairs nearest to the flames. An air of silence passed between them, broken only by the sound of the immortal flame’s snapping. 

Sham scratched his chin. “Well. No time to doddle,” he said, and walked over to a doorway opposite to the main entrance. Then, he glanced back at the draconian.

“Oh, and before I forget… Taenith was it?” Sham said, tapping his hand on the wood frame.

Taenith arched his neck. “Yes?”

“My friend, Tex. Well, you see, she’s gone through a lot. Some of it you may understand. Since you’ll be traveling together, speaking to her could prove… useful.” 

Taenith raised a brow, confused. “What did he mean by that?” he wondered.

“Human sarcasm?” he proposed. 

Sham chortled, “No…no. Nothing like that. Just…” he paused. “Friendly advice.” He said with a smirk before disappearing behind the door. Once his footsteps could no longer be heard, Taenith looked down to check on Han. Still breathing. He then faced Grizzel, who was busy staring into the fire. Taenith didn’t want to feel sympathy for him. As far as he was concerned, Grizzel was a fraud pretending to be a genocidal killer. But deep down, there was a subtle weight pinching at his heart, as if telling him to resolve the issue. Maybe there was something in Grizzel that reminded him of himself. 

Or maybe he just pitied him.

Whatever it was, he decided to say something. “So. You aren’t one of them.”

Grizzel’s throat tightened, and he almost retorted before…

“Good.”

Taenith’s words poured over Grizzel like chips of ice. Their chill was not unwelcome though. They reminded him of his time spent with Han. And now, Taenith. He could almost feel himself laying in the grass of the plains, arms folded behind his neck, breathing in a glacial breeze. Away from the lies he’d sewn. And the lives he’d risked.

When Grizzel did not reply, Taenith shook his head, gently shifting Han’s head onto a pillow before getting up. He headed towards the basement door near the entrance, thinking about what Sham said to him. But when Taenith laid a hand on the knob, anxiety ate at his heart. Indeed, he did worry about approaching her. She clearly wanted to be alone. Or maybe not. He wasn’t amazing at reading humans yet. Regardless, he was curious to know what Sham meant - and he clearly knew her better, so it was probably fine. What was the harm in a simple conversation anyway? 

As the door creaked open, Grizzel’s voice cracked a weak, “Thank you.”

Taenith froze. He didn’t know how to respond. His words were already enough, surely. So, without a word, he descended down the stairwell. It was a dark, but glowing yellow orbs lined the brick walls, allowing him to see the tiny human-made steps that he nearly tripped over every few seconds. As he continued down the damp stairwell, he could hear clashing metal and shifting chain mail from the room below. And once he neared the end of the stairs, an intense heat penetrated his scales and warmed the metal of his old armor. Soon, he could see a large furnace in the middle of the room. Around it were moving parts and rotating sets of armor and weaponry. To his surprise, no one occupied it or tended to the various products placed neatly alongside the room’s cobblestone walls. It was as if it were, itself, a living room.

         Tex, of course, noticed him enter. His clanking draconic feet were enough for her keen ears to take notice despite the machine noises behind her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked from across the room. 

         Despite the furnace being rather bright due to the constant flame, the rest of the room was rather dark. There were only a few sconces lining the walls, and they weren’t nearly enough to break through the shadowy veil that lingered over it. Taenith had to practically squint just to see her silhouette at the farthest wall.

         “I was curious,” Taenith replied, heading over while being careful not to knock over any of the tools that peppered the floor. Whoever was there last, by the looks of the several piles of clattered and clumped items scattered throughout, were clearly in a rush to get out. At least that helped explain the still functioning machinery.  

         Tex went silent as she turned to face the back wall once more. He couldn’t quite make out what it was she was examining, but a few shimmering lights coming from its body suggested to him that it was some sort of armor like the others strewn throughout the room. When he came closer, however, he saw it was no ordinary set of armor. Unlike the other sleek and polished sets around him, this one was dusty, dented, and dull. It was also encrusted with various religious symbols of a god Taenith wasn’t familiar with. Unlike the emblems of Lunas, which ranged from a singular draconic claw to complex, busy illustrations of her draconic form, this one was more simple, and eerie: a singular dragon eye.

         He wanted to say it was unsettling, but judging by the redness of her eyes, he assumed that would be in bad taste.

         “A friend’s?” Taenith asked.

         For a moment, she didn’t respond. Rather, she placed a hand on the breastplate, wiping away the thin layers of dust that had gathered there. Every year the cracks and dents in the armor felt more and more pronounced, as if it continued to degrade despite hanging undisturbed. Even more, rust began to eat away at the rims, sullying the shining make that once covered its user.

         “It was,” she said, her voice rather soft, as if she were afraid for the choking in her throat to become obvious.

“May I ask what happened?”

         Tex withdrew her hand from the ruined armor and turned to see the shadows kiss the draconian’s fiery frame. Despite the darkness, his gaze warmed her briefly. It had been a long time since she had seen a draconian. Even longer since she wasn’t obliged to kill one.

         “Why would you care?” Tex said, clenching her fists. “Did Ohen send you?” She shoved a finger into the draconian’s chest. To his shock, it actually stung enough to made him step back. There was a lot more power behind those arms than he’d expected.

         “No… But he did mention I would understand what you’re going through. Like I said, I was curious. That’s all,” Taenith said honestly. His stomach tightened as he looked down at her. Even as a massive draconian that easily towered over her, he was nervous; considering she had just decapitated a decorated war veteran not an hour ago with the least bit of effort. 

Tex stepped back, folding her arms. “I suppose you would. You’re from Lune, right?” 

Taenith nodded. 

“Didn’t realize any of you survived. How’d you get out?”

Taenith didn’t answer at first. Dredging up old memories wasn’t something he did lightly. “...One of the apostles who captured me got drunk and dropped a key by the cage. I took it. The rest is history,” he said. 

“Did you kill the guy?”

“One of them. The other’s still out there. Somewhere.” He felt his hand instinctively itch towards the hilt of his scimitar. He tried to find him at one point, but was never able to track him down. Shaking his thoughts, he focused back on Tex. “What happened to you?”

Tex averted her gaze for a moment. She debated how much she wanted to reveal to the stranger. “My clan… They were taken out by the Cult. Same as yours.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Taenith said. He’d never considered the apostles going after other humans. But he supposed it wasn’t beneath them. 

“Yeah, well. You can see why I wasn’t too fond of your friend, then.”    

Taenith nodded. “Well, I suppose Sham was right,” he half-smirked, then thought of Grizzel, staring defeated into the fire above. 

“What he did…He’s not usually like that,” Taenith said. But despite telling the truth, it still felt like a lie, especially when he looked into her jade, unconvinced eyes. However, that feeling was soon replaced by a strange warmth, the likes of which he was unfamiliar with. Usually, a human’s eyes were filled with hate and greed, or a deep seeded sadness like Grizzel or Han’s. Hers, however, made his scales numb and his heart skip in his chest. It was a strange sensation he had never experienced before. Even though her gem-like eyes were burnished red from stress and sorrow, there was a beauty there that made him feel…comfortable.

         He barely even realized how long he had been looking at her until she averted her gaze. “I’m not food, dragon,” she huffed, to which Taenith awkwardly blinked to break his brief, albeit awkward trance. Then, she took a deep breath and responded, “And forget it. I’m over it anyways.”

         Taenith raised a brow. From the electrically charged fury she exhibited only minutes ago, this seemed to be a drastic change in tone.

“What changed your mind?” he asked. “He lied about being an apostle and nearly got us all killed,” he said. “How can you forgive that?”

         Tex raised a brow. “Sounds to me like you haven’t even though you’re trying to defend him.” She gave a short laugh. 

Taenith hesitated. She was right. Though he had offered Grizzel some solace, his actions nearly got them killed. Again. 

“How much do you know about apostles?” she asked, gesturing to the chest piece. 

Taenith clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He’d studied them for years. Watched them. Killed them. He felt he had a good idea.

“They’re god worshippers. Murderers.”

“But do you know why they’re god worshippers and murderers?” she asked. 

Taenith didn’t respond. He didn’t really care to know why. Only that they were.     

         “Does it matter?” he asked.

“Of course it matters. What was your other friend’s name? Hun?” she asked. 

“Han.”

         “Well, if Han were born in Grizzel’s shoes, I promise he would make the same mistakes.”

         Taenith clenched his jaw, not really sure how to respond. It seemed like an obvious point. But not one he’d really considered before. 

“You asked who this armor belonged to,” she paused, taking a deep breath. She hated revisiting the story. But she figured it would help him like it helped her. “It belonged to a man named Lynn Castello. He was an apostle like Grizzel. Raised in the churches of Kingswatch,” she added. “He was the only apostle I knew back then, so I called him Church.” Her voice cracked a bit as she spoke his nickname. 

“You knew him longer than Sham?” Taenith asked.

“I met them both the same day, actually. Lynn wanted to leave the coast to continue his training, so he came to the Dark Continent. Like so many others. I met him and another in Woodhurst. After that, we became partners, hunting small-time monsters for coin. The rest is history.”

Taenith recognized as much. Years back, there was a story of a creature roaming the plains that abducted town folks' children. He was still young then, so all he remembered was that a group of wandering fighters took it out. 

“The Hitherback?” he asked, his memories starting to come back.

“You lived in Woodhurst?” she asked. 

“Not really. I sold furs there for a while. Lived a couple hours away in a Guivespear cave I cleared out,” Taenith took out a necklace he had made from one of its teeth.  

“Impressive,” Tex smirked, before returning to the story. 

“After Church and I killed the Hitherback, Sham picked us up for a job. He offered us a place in the Order. Of course, we accepted. We needed the money. The Order quickly became our home.”

“...What does this have to do with Grizzel?” Taenith asked.

“Faith isn’t always a bad thing,” she glanced at Taenith. He had a skeptical frown on his maw. “I know you disagree. But for Lynn, it was a way to… ‘bring hope to the lost’…or whatever,” her words trailed off as she failed to mimic Lynn’s favorite phrase.

“Point is, the church was Lynn’s life.”

“What happened?” Taenith asked.

“The Grand Paladin happened… You know. Kinsgwatch wasn’t always the shit hole it is now. He became obsessed with myths and legends, and afraid of anyone who didn’t follow him or his religion. So, he painted targets on the backs of his enemies,” her words turned to venom. “And the apostles gladly did his bidding.” Tex’s throat tightened. She wanted to blurt the entire truth. He seemed trustworthy, and yet there were elements of the truth that she simply couldn’t express yet. “Lynn left because he realized what really mattered to him.” Tex went quiet for a few moments, and an awkward air of silence - broken by the sound of clanging metal - passed between the two while she collected her thoughts.

“Look. Grizzel is an asshole. But he’s a human asshole,” she said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to calm the rising contempt in her chest. “He can change if he wants to.”       

Taenith rolled his jaw in denial for a moment, until he could remember the weight of the necklace he used to wear as a child. He had discarded that pendant long ago, and apparently along with it, some of his blame on Lunas. Maybe she had a point. 

“That doesn’t excuse their… his actions,” he rebuked.

“No. It doesn’t. But people who are willing to change? Hell, maybe they deserve a chance to be better,” she said, exhaling. She tried hard to remember the smile of her old friend. It had been so long that his face, and his armor, were now but hollow remnants. Like the shine of the armor’s metal plating, the lines of his face and the colors of his eyes had begun to fade from her.

“Do you really mean that?” Taenith’s mind lingered on guilty memories of the previous night.

Tex felt a weight fall on her shoulders as Taenith asked that question. Facing the draconian, she bit her tongue. Memories of the past flooded back to her.

“Thank you for believing in me when no one else would. I will always cherish that, and you, forever.”

Lynn’s words swelled in her mind, and her heart felt as if it were about to drop in her chest. She didn’t even know if what she was saying was true, or if it was just her old friend’s memory speaking through her. But before too much of a pause overtook their conversation, she found an answer she could deem worthwhile for the both of them.

“This piece is all I have left of him. It reminds me of that truth everytime I come down here,” she said, massaging the faded paint of one of the emblems. “So, yes. I have to believe it's true. Otherwise, his life meant nothing.”