A Meet of Tribes
“This doesn’t taste bad, actually.”
Anjani then moved over to my bed and gave me some as well. I chewed and sucked on the pulpy mixture for a while. I was surprised by its rich flavors. They reminded me of a stew made with an abundance of cinnamon and pepper. I then swallowed it and let my head drop back on the pillow. I looked up and found Field’s turquoise eyes scanning me carefully, while Anjani fed the rest of the mixture to Vita.
“Now we wait for the spiced rose to spread out and untangle your senses,” Draven said. “You’ll most likely feel a slight tingling, then everything will open up to you. That’s when you’ll be able to fully relax into it and focus on the past, the present, and the future. Based on our own experiences with the flower, I figured it was a good bet to try for your Oracle abilities.”
I listened to the Druid’s voice as I felt the world around me vibrate. Field’s fingers brushed gently against my shoulders, and I felt his touch deep inside me, as if he’d reached into my very soul. I smiled, and I heard his heart thudding in his chest, the air whistling in and out of his lungs, the blood rushing through his veins.
My limbs tingled, and I felt a velvety warmth glazing me from head to toe. I relaxed into it, taking deep breaths as my eyelids began to feel heavy. My head slowly dropped to the side, and I could see Phoenix in his bed, the Daughter standing next to him.
His eyes closed, and I figured he was the first to go under. I took another breath and felt my body melt and expand outward, transcending time, space, and matter.
I saw the Daughter as she rolled her eyes and passed out, collapsing on the floor with a loud thud. It prompted Anjani and Jovi to rush over to her.
Everything warped, and darkness enveloped me.
Serena
It happened so fast. One moment I was watching my brother close his eyes as the spiced rose mixture took over, and the next I saw the Daughter drop to the floor. Jovi and Anjani reached her in seconds, lifting her onto a spare bed.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked, my breath short.
“What happened?” Draven asked.
“The Daughter collapsed,” I said to him.
Anjani looked for vitals.
Yesterday Anjani couldn’t feel her heartbeat, so I wondered how she’d be able to tell whether the Daughter was alive or not. My blood froze at the thought of her dying while in our care. Her sisters would probably wipe us off the face of the planet with a snap of their fingers. No—they would make us suffer first.
Anjani lowered her head, her ear close enough to the Daughter’s lips to register breathing. “She’s alive,” the succubus said.
Relief washed over me. I sighed and instinctively leaned against Draven for support.
“She must have passed out,” Anjani continued, her fingers looking for a pulse. “Her breathing is even, and I can see movement beneath her eyelids.”
“That’s curious,” Draven mumbled. “Passing out at the same time as Phoenix.”
“Do you think there’s a connection between their consciousnesses?” I asked, trying to think of reasons why that would happen.
“I’m not sure,” he replied. “Anjani, can you please keep watch over her, just in case?”
The succubus nodded and kept her stance by the Daughter’s bedside.
Jovi moved over to watch Phoenix during his immersion. I looked over to my brother, then Aida and Vita. They were deep under, their chests rising and falling slowly and evenly.
We’d reached a point in the dynamic of things where we could no longer rely on Draven for information about the Daughter. Given her condition, courtesy of my blunder, we couldn’t tell what would have been deemed as normal and what was weird in this entire situation. All we could do was keep an eye out and try to paddle our way through the unknown.
I couldn’t help but wonder where the Daughters were. They must have sensed that their sister was awake. I’d ask Draven about that later. He might know something.
In the meantime, however, I shifted my focus back to my brother and friends.
Aida
I stood in absolute darkness with no sound or sense of anything.
“Hello?” I called out, hoping that this wasn’t going to be my vision.
It was tough enough that I had to see what was happening in real time without being able to stop or change any of it. Being stuck in the darkness throughout an entire vision would’ve added a whole new level of uselessness to my gift.
The blackness dissipated, and I found myself in the middle of what looked like a jungle with massively tall trees as thick as buildings and reaching so high it looked like they must brush the sky. Giant green and yellow leaves with waxy surfaces emerged from the foliage. Beautiful pink and white exotic flowers blossomed on the ground supported by a bed of tall grass and black ferns.
I could hear birds singing from the tree crowns and what sounded like insects whistling and crackling below. Before I could move, three creatures passed right through me, as if I were made of smoke.
“Do you think they’ll work with us, Chief?” one asked the other.
They followed the trail that unraveled ahead of me, snaking through the forest toward what looked like an enormous mountain with black ridges and dense purple forests. It looked beautifully weird as it towered above us.
I looked at the creatures ahead—feminine figures with long black hair cascading down their backs, familiar-looking silvery skin, and husky voices. Their voluptuous curves were clad in thick black leathers, and stripes of red paint crossed their bodies in a diagonal pattern down their arms and legs. They carried heavy swords in metallic scabbards with bone sculpture details on the handles. Crossbows and quivers with short arrows hung on their backs, and bright red feathers were braided through their hair.
They had to be succubi.
I decided to follow them as they walked toward the black mountain.
The sound of thunder boomed from above, but as I looked up, the sky was perfectly clear and blue. The rumble continued somewhere in the distance, and the ground trembled beneath us.
“The volcano is fired up,” said one of the succubi.
“It must be giving birth to a new Deargh,” the one in the middle mused.
“Is that possible in this day and age?”
“It might be. I wouldn’t put anything past Eritopia. As for your question, Lessa, they have every reason to form an alliance with us and the Druid against this bastard, Azazel,” replied the succubus in the middle.
A red cape hung loosely from her shoulder, prompting me to think that perhaps she was the leader of the party. She seemed slightly taller and bigger than the other two. In my head, it was anthropology 101—the person with the most decoration and muscles was most likely the chief.
We reached a clearing, where I was momentarily distracted by an explosion of flowers in pinks, purples, and fiery reds. The dizzying array of flowers all around us was bordered by giant trees. Right across this clearing was a cluster of giant limestone rocks, apparently rooted to the ground.
They seemed to have been carved into relatively human shapes with arms, legs, and square faces. Green vines had climbed all over them, spreading out and blossoming with small white flowers.
The succubi stopped in front of these stone giants. There were four of them, I realized as we got closer.
“Good day, kind Dearghs,” the succubus in the middle shouted at the rocks. “We’ve come to speak to Urdi, your chief.”
For a moment, I thought she might’ve lost her marbles in the jungle since she was talking to a rock, but when said rock started crackling and moving, I stilled, my mouth gaping. The stone giants were very much alive. They straightened their massive limestone backs slowly—they’d probably been in those positions for a long time. After all, they had vines growing all over them. This whole tableau brought back memories of old Viking folk tales I’d read as a kid about Norwegian stone giants.
“Good day to you, Hansa of the Red Tribe,” one of the Dearghs responded, h
is voice solid, like rocks crashing against each other. He took a step forward and bowed, each movement seeming like an extraordinary effort for the limestone titan.
Hansa, the one I’d identified as the leader, bowed in response. I took a few steps forward, standing between the succubi and the Dearghs and watched the exchange like a game of tennis.
“Thank you for speaking to us,” Hansa replied. “We bring news from the north of an alliance between our tribe and a Druid against Azazel’s reign of terror.”
“What makes you think we are interested in war, succubus? We are creatures of peace.”
“While that is true, I believe Urdi will want to hear what we have to say.” Hansa smirked with self-confidence. “Especially once he hears the reason behind your volcanoes dying out. This war involves all of Eritopia, whether you like it or not.”
The Deargh thought about it for a few seconds, then nodded and stepped aside. The other stone giants did the same, clearing the path ahead for the succubi. I walked with them as they advanced through the clearing, passed the Dearghs, and entered another space. This one was blanketed by tall grass for a few dozen yards before it rose into a stony ridge leading to a plateau above.
We climbed the mountain via this ridge, and I couldn’t help but admire the view as we went. The jungle unraveled at our feet in shades of deep green and yellow. The tall trees brushed against white wisps of clouds. It was breathtaking—a lavish wilderness that was a natural masterpiece. Strings of birds flew across as the sun threw colorful reflections from their pink, red, and turquoise feathers.
I turned around and saw a massive limestone wall rising above me. It continued upward into another, sharper ridge. From the wall emerged about a dozen Dearghs, as if passing through a waterfall. They stood so tall that I had to crane my neck in order to see their faces. They reminded me a little of the Easter Island statues, their features rough and simple.
One Deargh stood out in particular with black stone inserts throughout his body like obsidian tattoos. He was bigger than the others, and his eyes were deep set below the shadow of the horizontal ridge, glimmering orange like two small fires.
“Urdi,” Hansa addressed him directly. “It’s been too long!”
She smiled and bowed respectfully, and the other two succubi followed her lead. Urdi, the chief of these Dearghs, from what I assumed, nodded in return. His breath was heavy, as if every movement was a daunting task.
“Hansa, sister of the Red Tribe,” he replied. “What brings you here after five hundred years?”
“Eritopia is in danger, milord, and you know very well why,” the succubus said in a grave tone. “Azazel is spewing darkness and poison all over the world, and many are dying. You know that we can’t have that. It’s not natural.”
“We are well aware of Azazel and his Destroyers. But it does not concern us, my dear. We are bound to our volcanoes and speak to no one. For as long as Eritopia stands, we stand. That is not something he can change, regardless of his power.”
“But that is where you’re wrong, milord. We are all creatures of Eritopia, and we all deserve to live. Just because you think his reign doesn’t affect you, that doesn’t mean you should just stand back and watch everything burn,” Hansa replied. “People are dying. The planet is drenched in blood.”
She took a step forward, tilted her head to one side, and crossed her arms. The other Dearghs closed in on us, tightening the circle. Their shadows fell heavily on us, but Hansa did not budge.
“Besides, you don’t seem to realize how much damage Azazel has done to your kind already,” she continued.
Urdi straightened his back in response.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Why do you think the volcanoes have been dying over the past few centuries, Urdi?”
“It is nature’s will. Eritopia gives life but it also takes life. We have made our peace with that.”
“So you’re perfectly fine with hundreds of Dearghs perishing when volcanoes die out one after the other, while Azazel’s power grows stronger every day?” Hansa replied.
“What does one have to do with the other?”
The succubus threw her head back and laughed, mockery underlining her tone. Judging by the dark, stern looks on the Dearghs’ faces, I hoped she would soon deliver the answer to Urdi’s question before the succubi were all crushed beneath giant limestone fists.
“Wow, Urdi. You’ve been around for thousands of years, and yet you fail to see how Azazel’s power grew while your brothers started dying out! I’m disappointed,” she said. “Open your eyes, Dearghs!”
Her voice shot through the silence and echoed across the plateau.
“Azazel draws power from the volcanoes for his dark magic. The energy from these active mountains doesn’t just keep you Dearghs alive. It feeds his ability to corrupt and consume. It’s how he’s created Destroyers from Druids! It’s how he’s led successful campaigns against the incubi citadels. He rained fire and brimstone upon them! It’s how he keeps his spying eyes and ears open throughout Eritopia! Your life for his dark magic!”
The Dearghs stilled and blinked several times, their stone eyelids scratching against each other.
“Azazel is draining our volcanoes?” came Urdi’s reply, laced with disbelief.
“Yes! We know that for a fact, as we, too, have some eyes inside his city. It’s why he’s gained so much power in the first place, why so many incubi would rather bow before him than fight him.”
For a taut moment, Urdi stared silently at Hansa, taking in her words.
Then Urdi dropped to one knee before Hansa. “I will summon our brothers from the other clans today, succubus. Stay here, and join our council tonight,” he said.
“Your volcanoes are spread across the planet, Urdi. How will they all be here by tonight?” Hansa lifted an eyebrow.
“The volcano fires are portals from one mountain to another, my dear. It’s how we travel.”
I wanted to hear more, but before I could catch the rest of the exchange between Hansa and Urdi, the image before me dissolved into absolute darkness. I groaned.
Next thing I knew, I found myself standing in a narrow corridor with small green fires burning overhead in bronze plates hung from the ceiling. The flames threw peculiar lights across the black stone walls.
Several archways were carved ahead, leading to different chambers. As I walked forward, my ears captured noises from behind—shrills of pain and broken pleas. I didn’t like this place at all. Paralyzing terror threatened to wrap around my limbs.
I took a deep breath, reminding myself that this was just a vision and that I could not be harmed. I noticed a yellow light flickering ahead, where the corridor ended in another chamber. I passed through it and walked into a spacious room with a tall ceiling and torches mounted on the walls.
The floor glistened black beneath my feet. I looked around and couldn’t stop the yelp that escaped my throat. I covered my mouth and watched two nightmares conversing over a map spread on a massive wooden table.
One looked like a Destroyer, but larger than the ones I’d seen before. He was significantly taller with broad shoulders and a thick serpent body with black and brown scales. He wore a charcoal-colored silk tunic with gold embroidery on the edges and a massive gold pendant around his trunk of a neck. The pendant was strange, depicting a snake with rubies for eyes. It moved slowly and constantly, its body shaped like the number eight. Its endless slithering sent shivers down my spine.
I took a few steps forward and noticed his features—he’d once been a handsome man, but his square jaw and sharp cheeks were now ridden with black and brown scales, much like his lower body. His eyes were red—not just bloodshot but crimson even in his irises. His pupils dilated as he listened to the man standing next to him in front of the map.
I recognized the other guy as the Druid I’d seen getting tortured in my previous vision. He looked better now, but his deep-set eyes were dark, and his lips were a troubling shade of purp
le. His cheeks were sucked in, and his fingers trembled as he pointed at various locations on the map.
Despite the wails and cries for help oozing from the walls around them, both seemed perfectly focused on their conversation.
“Marchosi, do not talk to me in riddles. I didn’t spare your life to have to put up with your vague nuances,” said the massive Destroyer. He crossed his arms. Two fingers caressed the moving snake pendant.
I quivered with disgust. He creeped the hell out of me.
“My apologies, Azazel. Allow me to better explain,” the Druid named Marchosi replied.
My eyes grew wide as I realized I was standing in front of him. Azazel. The monster who wanted me locked in a glass ball, to serve him as he killed and pillaged his way through Eritopia. My inner-wolf growled instinctively. Oh, if only I could materialize in that room and turn into a werewolf so I could rip his throat out.
“Here and here are where the strangers were seen a few days ago, traveling up north through the Mohassian jungles.” Marchosi pointed at two spots on the map, and Azazel followed his finger along the waxed paper.
“What sources do you have?”
“Solitary Sluaghs I keep in my league. I found them bodies in return for their services,” the Druid replied. “They noticed unusual movements toward the northern mountains, and they followed the group, but they lost track of them in the woods.”
“And you’re sure they weren’t just incubi wandering around?” Azazel asked, squinting his eyes at Marchosi.
“N-no, my liege,” said the Druid with a trembling voice. “They were not Eritopian, at least two of them for sure weren’t.”
“Well, that’s an interesting development. What about the other two?”
“From what I understood, one was a succubus, and the other was unidentifiable and blind.”
It hit me then that Marchosi was referring to Serena, Jovi, Draven, and Anjani. They had been spotted during their trip to the Red Tribe. My stomach churned at the thought of them being spied on, but hearing the Druid say they’d lost them in the jungle gave me a minuscule sense of comfort. They hadn’t tracked them all the way.