Chapter 102 - The End-ers (Patreon)

Jiran’s heart began racing the moment he saw the multicolored lights flickering beyond the foreboding doorway. The flashes failed to push back the darkness or illuminate a single detail about the passage, leaving Jiran and Niya burning with curiosity. Jiran took a step toward the doorway, but a hand on his wrist stopped him. Thinking she wanted help standing, Jiran reached for her but she brushed it away, standing on her own with a deep moan.

“Thank you,” Niya held her side while sending him a complicated look he couldn’t decipher.

“For what?”

“Not killing him. He really did protect me.” She took a deep, painful breath while considering her thoughts. “I wanted to kill him myself after he killed the people I was training.” She shook her head, the frustration and discomfort evident in her features, “They weren’t good people... He just got to them before anyone else did. Then he had the gall to be kind to me. Fucking treated me like his long-lost sister,” Niya spat on the floor, leaving another scarlet stain in the tapestry of death coating the room. “Argh! I don’t know, it’s complicated. I can’t stand him and he needs to die… but maybe not today, okay? It would leave a bad taste in my mouth.”

“Complicated. Yeah, that’s exactly right. I met him when we were younger, that time I was gone for a few days before we moved to the desert, “Her eyes lit up in recognition, “He never actually hurt me, just threatened me a little and pressed his aura on me. I know he’s a psychotic murderer. Still, no matter how evil someone is, if they protected someone I care about, I wouldn’t be able to kill them. So long as he doesn’t turn on us, I won’t kill him. Today.”

“Glad we agree. Think we have time to take a peek at this big secret before we get out of here? I have to admit, I’m curious, especially after that strange light. If the one who escaped flew directly to Morothin, we would probably have an hour or two before reinforcements arrive.”

“It’s only been fifteen minutes since I ran into him, I doubt he’s moving as quickly now. Still, we shouldn’t stay more than thirty minutes. Best to be a little cautious, after all, I finally got my adorable cousin back.”

Jiran ruffled the top of her head and Niya cringed in pain when she swatted his hand away, “Shut up, idiot,” They shared a flashed smile before Jiran walked through the hole Markhiss made. With the ice wall as her support, she shuffled behind him.

Jiran’s confusion mounted as he approached. He could see nothing through the darkness beyond the door, even his aura showed him that there was no dark passageway, only stone. Without a pinprick of light within the all-consuming darkness for perspective, the exit appeared painted upon the wall rather than an entrance to a tunnel. For a moment, he wondered if Markhiss had played a trick on them, teleporting away the moment he appeared to move beyond the door.

When he reached out to touch it, his hand moved into the wall effortlessly. A grin pulled on his cheeks as the familiar anticipation of exploring the unknown grasped him. He pushed forward, stepping fully into whatever was beyond. Lights sprang forth beneath him, illuminating a long tube of multi-colored brilliance. Beneath his feet, a path of shimmering luminescence appeared. Despite being razor-thin and looking as fragile as glass, It was solid when he gave it an experimental stamp of his foot. The lit path led to a solid white dot far in the distance.

Niya had not entered yet, her lips moved with a question though he heard no sound. When she got no response from him, she probed the blackness with her hand while biting her lip. With a wicked grin, Jiran reached through and grabbed her hand, pulling her forward. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and when she passed through the invisible barrier, her voice echoed through the tunnel. “You ass!” Her fist flashed forward in a punch that struck only sturdy Coating before harmlessly bouncing away from him. She groaned in agony from the movements, glaring at him through her eyelashes, bent over with her hands on her knees gasping for air.

“What? I’m not going to wait around all day for you to play with a wall. Let’s go!” Jiran chuckled at her impotent frustration before moving forward along the path of lights.

Her attention was finally drawn to their surroundings and her eyes shot wide, “W-what is this place?!” She followed him in a daze, her head swiveling in every direction.

“No clue,” Jiran answered cheerfully, continuing at a speed she could match. The colors amplified with each step they took toward the white dot. It rapidly expanded as if each pace forward was crossing a vast distance. Soon, the lights making up the tube undulated in strobing swirls that caused pressure to build behind Jiran’s eyes. After a few more dizzying steps, he passed through another invisible aperture, leaving the multicolored path behind.

Jiran’s body went rigid and his breath caught as fear replaced curiosity and wonder. He found himself in an all too familiar white room with paneled walls. A bright glow came from all directions simultaneously—so bright it caused his eyes to sting. He blinked a few times, rapidly adjusting. Upon spotting a familiar screen that rested in the far wall, his stomach churned. Next to it, a broken sliding door hung ajar.

This is the same as the safe rooms before an arena challenge. What is it doing here?

Niya stepped in behind him, her breath catching as well. Jiran almost turned around immediately but paused while contemplating the dozen or so missing wall tiles. They revealed a history of destruction that had visited this room and the mystery reignited his burning curiosity enough to stay his caution.

Even the screen is broken, this room isn't functional anymore. I need to calm down. This isn’t an arena challenge. Something else is going on here. I have to know.

“What is this place?” Niya repeated herself in a mumble as she took in every detail around them.

Jiran didn’t answer her right away, instead, he approached one of the missing wall panels. Beyond it, was darkness as absolute as the tunnel that brought them here. He reached out a finger to touch it and foresight blared a powerful warning. He jerked his hand back and looked at Niya with a serious scowl that brooked no argument. “A place we should not be. Don’t touch anything, this room is far more dangerous than you can imagine.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“No, not this room exactly, but others like it. Each time, I nearly died. Looks like Markhiss went ahead already. Stay close.”

Jiran walked to the small, cracked screen. When there was no warning from foresight, he gently touched it with his finger. There was no response of any kind. He examined the broken door, it appeared to have been forced open, a portion bent into the shape of a hand with grooves like fingers.

Who could have been strong enough to pry this door open? An emperor no doubt.

With a deep breath to steel his nerves, Jiran ducked through the broken door. He found himself in another nearly-identical paneled room, though these tiles were purple. On the other side of the room, Markhiss stood before a working screen. It flickered to life each time he touched it, yet no sliding door appeared. Hearing their footfalls, Markhiss looked over his shoulder at Jiran with a wide grin.

“Finally decided to join me, kids? Did you remember the picnic basket? Daddy’s getting hungry.”

Jiran stared at him blankly for a second before approaching the flickering screen. Markhiss moved out of the way without being prompted, sweeping into a low bow. Jiran felt the hairs on his arms rise as he walked past the creeptastic loon.

He placed his finger on the screen and felt a trickle of electricity flow through his body. If it was like the challenger arena, then it would sense his stomach was empty and the door would open on its own. When the trickle of energy moved through his body and found nothing, it exited back into the screen. A hiss of displaced air beside him revealed four lines in the wall that split wider until they revealed a new door.

Markhiss lifted his arm and sniffed himself. “Do I smell bad? Why wouldn't it let me through?”

“Please stop messing around, this place represents a danger you cannot fathom. If you do something stupid to endanger us, I will end you.”

“A danger I cannot fathom, yet you do, most intriguing. I will try, but no promises,” He flashed his signature too-wide smile, causing Jiran to sigh before he stepped up to the new doorway. He was unable to see anything beyond, and with no warning from foresight, he pushed forward.

The first thing that struck him was the smell: Old, stale, and dry. The room was too dark to see. Light Manipulation flowed from his palm, revealing a small space with no other exits. Dilapidated stone blocks made up the walls, ceiling, and floor. The entire room exuded tremendous pressure on his mind. The room felt ancient and sacred in a way that caused him to instinctively shy away from touching anything. A stone tablet dominated the center of the room. Upon its surface were several passages written in a language he had never seen.

No, not a single language, several different languages.

He stepped to the side as Niya entered behind him, then Markhiss. The feeling of their auras suddenly appearing inside his was jarring but he ignored it, unable to tear his focus from the tablet. The scripts were so different and each one felt like the work of a master artist imbuing their life force into the stone. They were spread out haphazardly as if each new passage used the space available, rather than being planned in advance.

Markhiss whistled appreciatively as he approached it. There was a tinge of reverence in his voice, “Here is the truth of this place. I do not recognize any of the writing. How is that possible?”

“Why would you? I’m surprised you can read at all, murderer,” Niya chided.

Markhiss shook his head sadly, his brows furrowing in authentic pain. “So quick to judge, I was not always as I am now. I was a researcher, a scholar. I sought the truth of all things in the royal Voicotheca in Cruex for longer than your parents have drawn breath,” Niya growled, reminding Jiran of how her mother died giving birth to her.

That explains his addiction to the truth, I guess.

“Nobody cares how old you are,” Niya pushed Markhiss out of the way so she could get a closer look while Jiran waited for his translator with bated breath. “All of this, for a tablet? I don’t understand. What could be so important about this thing for there to be three, tier six guards stationed here year-round?” Niya wondered aloud.

Jiran merely shook his head, wanting to know the answer himself. He resumed his inspection of the stone, jerking back in surprise when some of the letters began to move and dance within his interface—exactly the way damage numbers usually would.

Does my new translator work on written languages, too?

Jiran pumped a fist in victory as a series of pictographs suddenly morphed into Imperial Standard. He pointed and opened his mouth to read them aloud. Suddenly, a powerful force gripped his throat, Jiran instinctively understood he could stop whatever was happening with a thought, but something about the strange force felt right and important. It called to him, begging to be heard, and since he detected no malice, he allowed the words to flow from his mouth. His voice morphed until it took on an edge that he didn’t recognize as his own—deep, foreboding, and full of the pain of an entire civilization.

“We saw the signs of those who came before. We waited, unsure. Our hesitation, our doom. This message we pass along, heed it well. Beware, they come. The Enders, slayers of all.”

Jiran found himself before the tablet, tracing his finger along some pictographs just above what he had finished reading. Niya and Markhiss looked at him like he had grown a third head as he mumbled,  “These are a bunch of numbers. Some kind of mathematical formula. Maybe a calendar, I’m not sure.”

“You can’t read that. Stop messing around. Your normal pranks are bad enough, this is not funny.”

“He speaks the truth, his words resonate with the fabric,” Markhiss spoke in a whisper as he beheld Jiran with stars in his eyes.

Jiran briefly looked over his shoulder at Niya. “I can read it, I’ll tell you about it later,” He flicked his eyes toward Markhiss, clearly uncomfortable revealing too many secrets in front of him. Niya nodded her understanding before Jiran continued. ”Give me a few minutes and I’ll have the rest.”

Jiran licked his lips, suddenly so excited to read the next passage that his mouth felt dry and his fingers itched. When it finally happened a minute later, he launched into the translation without preamble, once more the ancient will of the writer taking control of his voice.

“The Enders are real. They swept across our skies. Massive beasts with eyes that condemn our weakness. One hundred survivors are all that remain of the once proud Telanese, no more these ancient rooms could shelter. For fifty cycles we have postponed our fate. Now, our supplies are depleted. We pray to you, Shortana, that it has been long enough.”

“Shortana? Is that a god? Never heard of them. Have you?” Niya wondered aloud.

“In the history of the empire, none have ever prayed to a Shortana. There is no such god,” Markhiss’s confusion was evident by his tone and the wrinkles on his brow.

“You seem pretty sure of yourself,” Niya scoffed.

“I am sure.”

“Whatever,” She clicked her tongue before crossing her arms and facing Jiran. “Why are there so many different kinds of writing?”

“Because they’re all from a different civilization.”

“What? Are you sure? Has the empire never used another language? Maybe it’s just from the beginning of the empire.”

Markhiss shook his head, “No, the empire has never used another language. There is only one, granted to us by the emperors. Where they learned it, none living today know.”

“Does that mean this tablet is older than the empire?” Jiran flicked his gaze to Markhiss while rubbing his chin, thoughts racing as he attempted to solve the puzzle. Eventually, another language was revealed and he couldn’t speak the words quickly enough.

“We laid a trap for the Enders, we failed. Our strongest warrior, Duralla, has fallen. The eleventh tier and he is no more. We are no more. long live the Meraadom Empire.”

I know that name! The People’s Cavern.

Jiran stood ramrod straight as goosebumps crept up his skin. The different languages, the cryptic clues, they were all starting to come together in his mind and the sinking feeling in his gut only deepened, heightening his unease.

“You know something, I can feel it,” Markhiss leaned toward Jiran hopefully.

“I know that name, it’s an empire from before the Finlest Empire. I’ve found one of their ruins before. It was old, really old. The whole place was faded to dust but one of their murals was mostly intact. It showed the last of their people hiding deep beneath the ground to escape some beasts.”

“Those beasts, were they these Enders?” Niya asked, her eyes darting around the room nervously.

“No, I don’t think so, they just looked like regular beasts. Maybe after this Duralla guy died, they had nobody left to protect them so they fled underground?”

The last two passages snapped into focus a moment later.

“We heeded the warnings and combined our efforts. Ten of our best ascended beyond the limit. They met the Enders. How I wish their battle was a fierce tale between good and evil. It was not. They were slaughtered. Do not fight the Enders. Hide, survive. It has been two thousand years since they last came. Do not fall to hubris as we did, we could have saved so many.”

Jiran pushed the implications aside, moving on quickly before his nerves frayed completely. “There's one more.”

"We have been betrayed. Formis, the all-father has killed all his children. Our bravest and brightest. A million souls sacrificed to fuel his growth. The mountains churn like a river from his ascension. He faces the Enders alone. He is now of the twelfth tier. He is our betrayer, our god, the wickedness in all our hearts, and our final hope. It has been so long and he has not come for us. Are we all that remain? Like all those before, are we but dust?"

Niya was the first to recover and speak. “So, every two thousand years, these Enders come and kill everyone? But the empire is two thousand years old. Did the emperors already beat them?”

Markhiss mumbled while tugging at his ear, “The emperors have been wise to keep this secret locked away. I find it strange they have not prepared for the Enders in any noticeable way. Perhaps they never took the time to unravel the languages, or they do not believe them,” Jiran glanced at Markhiss with raised brows.

Is it just me or is he getting less crazy-sounding by the second? Maybe the pressure in this room has a stabilizing effect on people so they don’t break anything? Interesting, but it’s time to go.

“We can figure it out later. Now that we know what this place was hiding, we should leave. I really don’t want to be here when that Duchess shows up. I have zero interest in killing another defender of the empire just because you couldn’t stop yourself from murdering everyone guarding this place.”

Markhiss had the decency to not meet Jiran’s glare as he stalked past the man and through the only exit. Niya was quick on his heels, holding her side with a grimace as she tried to keep pace with him. They backtracked through both rooms and down the multicolored tunnel, appearing in the antechamber full of ice. The moment he stepped through the invisible barrier, a notification appeared in his status.

EXP: + 1

Odd, I guess this guy finally died while we were gone and I couldn't get the exp until I came back. Does that mean those rooms are in a separate dimension or something? How does EXP work at all for that matter, is it like the challenger density but nobody can see it? The more I learn, the more questions I have. I wonder if this is how Lenton feels.

Jiran tried to lift Niya with his aura out of habit but she huffed at him. “I don’t need your help to fly, back off.”

“All right, all right, suit yourself. I’m used to carrying everyone is all,” Jiran raised his palms defensively.

“Sorry, I… I’m not used to help without expectation,” She lifted herself, falling silent as she flew close behind him up the long stairway back to the mountain temple above. When they exited the building through the broken doors, they flew straight up, searching in every direction for signs of an ambush or approaching reinforcements.

“What now?” Niya asked. When she saw Markhiss flying toward them, she growled, baring her teeth.

Jiran held up a hand, positioning himself between Markhiss and her. “Hold on a second. Markhiss, what are you doing?”

“I’m coming with you.”

“No, you’re not,” Jiran was firm, the threat in his tone unmistakable.

Markhiss swallowed, turning puppy-dog-eyes on full blast before pleading with a whining tone. “B-but, I need you, I feel so much better already. Your truths bring my soul such peace. I haven’t felt this stable in more years than I can remember living. Please!”

“No, fuck off. You're a cold-blooded murderer and I can’t trust you. What happened in there was a one-time thing because you protected Niya. Any debt I had toward you has been repaid. The next time I see you, I’m going to ask if you’ve killed any innocents, if the answer is yes, I’m going to keep you alive while I slowly melt your bones. Lying is not a valid reason for killing, do I make myself clear?”

“I-I understand. I won’t kill the untruthful anymore, I’ll leave their judgment to you. There are plenty of others for me to… focus on. True stains that must be cleansed before they cause you problems. Goodbye, for now, Jiran of Feylon,” He waved with a frown before flying southwest.

The moment he was out of earshot, Niya continued their conversation. “I know you said you had somewhere to go, but can it wait? I really want to see if you can help my friend. The soothsayer was wrong about needing the key, but she was right about me finding you here. Maybe she was right about you being able to help.”

“I need to check on someone first. It should be a quick trip. After I make sure she’s okay, I’d be happy to help your friend however I can.”

“Ho-ho my female intuition is spiking like crazy over here! This girl isn’t merely another pretty face. Does my cute younger cousin have a crush?”

The mounting pressure in Jiran’s chest from finding Niya, learning about the Enders, and the dark history of the previous empires was released with an explosive bark of laughter. His heart constricted, overflowing with gratitude for both Niya and Daughter. With a warm smile, he motioned for her to follow him. “C’mon, let’s find something to eat. Turns out you’re unbearably annoying when you’re hangry.”

There’s nothing I can do about the Enders as I am. Hopefully, there’s enough time for me to tier up a few more times. If not, there’s always the portals. No matter what, I’ll save as much of the empire as I can.

Jiran shook the troubling thoughts from his head as he led Niya toward the nearby woods, and hopefully, a long-overdue lunch.

END OF BOOK 2 THANK YOU FOR READING!