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Lightmoon 8, 2604 R.M. — Lukar Village, Dry Lake, No Man’s Land
DERITH SYLVARADO WAS marched awkwardly down the dirt road by a procession of a dozen armed Lukar guards. He could not even shape-shift to escape, since javelins were pointing into every part of his body.
Searin and Niri were bound, blindfolded and gagged. Que-Que was contained in a metal cage. Silver allowed himself a sarcastic moment to wonder if the creature gave off a self-defeating signal that screamed “Trap me in a cage when I’m not looking! It’s literally my only weakness!” The odds of Que-Que being trapped twice in so few encounters were mind-boggling.
None of the Lukar spoke. They marched Silver steadily along through the village, passing many of the same people Silver had seen cheering for him the day before. Now, they were dressed in ceremonial clothing and their faces were dyed red with something Silver could only hope was not Human blood. They eyed him anxiously, clearly excited for the execution to start.
After almost ten minutes, they stopped in front of the shrine to the Lukar rain god, Chuman. It was in the shape of a gargantuan boar’s head dyed red with fish-like fins, gills and spiked horns. This must be Chuman, he thought. What a sad excuse for an ugly guy. I respect other people’s religions and all, but how could they worship this dude?
The Lukar remained speechless. None even hinted at an emotion. The shaman raised his hand, and a comparatively large, fit man in a loincloth swung a massive hammer into a rusted stake near the Chuman statue. The boar’s mouth opened and stuck out its “tongue”, which really was a long, dull blade.
“Hey!” Silver shouted. “Don’t I get a say in whether I get impaled on a rusty knife?”
The large man pounded him in the ribs with the hammer. The blow shook his whole frame. “No spake. Chang ti drek!”
“What?” Silver wished he had even a fraction of Searin’s linguistic ability.
Another hammer blow exploded into his side. “Chang ti drek!” he shouted.
“Change to a dragon?”
“Yupz!” The man brandished the hammer to strike Silver again.
Silver focused and transformed his body into a long Neptune Dragon. The thickly built Lukar man bound him to a board with thick coils. He and another man began to drag the ramp forward toward the blade, one painstaking step at a time. Silver flinched. He only hoped being stabbed in the head would let him pass out quickly.
What will my death serve? he thought.
Nothing... plan... escape. Silver recognized the mind-penetrating sting of Niri’s voice. Unfortunately, he was garbled, and Silver could not understand more than a few syllables.
Niri, speak clearly, he insisted.
... not... blindfold... interrupts... speak.
I’m going to break free!
No... have... plan... anything...
The transmission died, but he got the gist. The Syl had said he did not have a plan and he was unable to do anything. Whether Niri could help him or not, Silver was going to save his friends and himself.
He stretched a little in the cords. The large men to either side did not notice and continued to slowly drag Silver toward the blood painted idol. Silver extended arms from his sides and slid them under the ropes. The men began to chant a very slow and arrhythmic tune.
He stretched his claws and slit the cords. Just as the point of the knife would have cut into his cranium, he launched himself into the sky. He shot a jet of water at the man with the hammer, who keeled over and rolled backward. He let out a mighty roar and sprayed several other guards with blasts of cold water. Now to save the others, he thought.
At once, a rush of energy coursed through his body. His mind filled with static and he lost control of his thoughts. He began to fall toward the ground but regained his control and climbed at the last moment.
You are impatient, Derith, Niri’s voice scolded. Silver turned around to see Niri without the bonds, holding Que-Que and freeing Searin. I informed you I had devised a plan, and warned you against doing anything, but you insisted upon attacking anyway.
Silver shook his head to jar out the dizziness. That was you? What did you do? He looked around to see the Lukar had all fallen to the ground. Some were unconscious, and others were dizzy, a;; holding their heads.
I am able to release my thoughts and disrupt the thoughts of others, Niri informed him. I do this as a form of attack, with a predictable effect and range. The blast would not have hit you had you refrained from attacking.
Well, when you’re literally staring death in the face, you’ll think differently, Silver stated. I had to do something.
Learn patience in the future, Derith. He smiled as if amused. His face suddenly became somber again and he added, For now, we must run.
Only ten of the Lukar were able to recover from Niri’s psychic burst in time to give chase. Silver, now thoroughly out of energy, fought against the protesting in his muscles and trudged forward.
“Quill du drek ud his fronds!” the Lukar shouted, waving their primitive spears.
The Lukar were not organized and began to dash away in different directions. Only three were able to follow their zigzag path while the others lost sight of “du drek” and returned to their village.
They sprinted for almost ten minutes. As their pursuers began to fade into the distance, Silver began to hope they might escape after all. His high spirits were quelled as he and his companions came to a screeching halt at the shore of the now filled lake.
