Showdown at the Temple of the Mysteries
“I demand justice!” Malik Akamaa snarled pointedly at Sabaa Daviida, before turning his eyes to the Gong Chichumba; Steel Skull, who sat his great seat in a private room of the Temple of the Mysteries. The Okaliqii Chieftanf, well into his sixties, had been a leader of his people for decades… he’d witnessed many strange things… After all, those who served him were the Hard Head warriors of the Bone Clan… there ways were intimate with the dead and the dying… he knew, the veil was thin in Bulbancha, and that there were many instances of supernatural occurrence across its past and present. But nothing could’ve prepared him for the abduction of Daviida’s son by the fish woman after the death of the young Bone Clan Spy Boy; Jaheim Akamaa, Maliks prodigal son. Steel Skull, as the others, could not recall the name of Daviida’s child…not even Daviida himself could find the syllables on his tongue…out of reach like the haze of a dream one can’t remember.
Malik Akamaa had requested this council meeting of the heads of the Hard Head Houses. His grief had burned into wrath after realizing that Jaheim was not defeated fairly, but by means of witchcraft.
“I understand that you are in pain Malik, but your anger is misdirected.” Daviida said, steady eyed. He was the most martially prowessed of the warriors in service to the Gong Chichumba, and he did not shutter at Akamaa’s roar…he did empathize however.
“My anger’s course is clear Sabaa…your son…killed my boy, with a curse on his blade… and then disappeared to some rancid corner of hell to escape penalty ... your own house must be held accountable… someone must pay…or else…” The council tensed, and Steel Skull breathed in… he’d not interject too early, seeing if Daviida; The Bone Collector could calm his long standing brother in arms down on his own.
“I was not aware of…” Daviida pursed his lips, unable to recall the name he’d given to his own child, “of my son’s treachery. I would never have allowed the battle to ensue… Malik…I loved your son, like my own…I trained him…”
“Your sentiments are not of consequence to me. Jaheim was my own… no matter how wrapped up in your image he was…He was mine…” Malik’s eyes welled with hot tears and he croaked out, “you encouraged your…your spawn…to think they could be something they were not, and my son paid the ultimate price…”
Steel Skull processed the clasping tight of Daviida’s fist, and was just about to speak, to settle the space, when there was an anxious knocking at the council room’s door. Steel Skull nodded to the stationed guards to check who it was, and as they opened it, the sound of alarm bells and horns sounded from the sentry posts of the Temple. The messenger relayed, and Steel Skulls' temple guard crossed the room to whisper news of trouble. Daviida and Malik stilled their negotiations of violence, to await Steel Skull’s clarification…Steel Skull’s eyes passed over both men, before he sent his guard and the other to stand on the other side of the door. Before the guard left, he retrieved a weapon from an altar, and placed it in Steel Skull’s hand. It was a bladed club; ancient, from the time of Helottah and Nahinii. The Chief looked at Malik Akamaa;
“Enough of your quarreling Akamaa… your wish for violence is about to be granted.” The warriors of the council began to hear the commotion of battle from across the temple. Steel colliding and men crying out as they fell. Steel Skull, who’d been the guardian of this great structure at the edge of the River for decades, was spiritually attuned to its energies. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, allowing his mind to absorb a vision of what was coming. His heart began to race, but he maintained composure,
“Prepare yourselves.” Was all he said, and the council of seven warriors drew their steel and formed a protective barrier between Steel Skull and the door. Daviida and Malik went to either side of the chief, their differences aside.
“What’s coming?” ‘Daviida asked, as they heard violence erupt in the hall outside the door.
“What do you think?” Steel Skull said, before all got quiet… Steel Skull watched as blood pooled past the bottom frame of the door. The door was pushed open then, and in walked two warriors…their armor was ancient, and their weapons were old and chipped with rust…but wet with blood; still sharp. They looked like they were supposed to be brown skinned… but they were a strange greenly-grey. Their eyes were ghostly…they smelled of rot… Steel Skull could see more of them were out in the hall… he heard screams from other areas and outside… There was a troop of these ghoulish warriors… a chill went up his spine, when the grey skinned soldiers stepped aside for the entry of a warrior in ivory gator leather, jade and onyx armor, with a horned war helm. He carried a sword that Steel Skull had never seen in person; only pictures…but at its sight, he knew its name, even as he’d forgotten the name of the damned one who carried it. He understood then, that this army of the dead was controlled by the wielder of that sword, called Onyxis; the Soul Reaper.
Even the mighty bone collector’s hands shook, as he witnessed for the first time since the battle under the bridge, his son, dressed in different armor than what he’d been dragged away in, carrying a sword of grief and ruin.
“You…” Malik was the first to break the silence, “you kill my son… and now you dare to desecrate this temple? Have you no shame? No trace of honor in your heart … I’ve known you since you were a child… the clan did not raise you this way…” Nameless glanced at Malik, dismissively, as if his words were nothing more than some distracting noise. He looked ahead, not once even meeting Daviida’s pleading eyes… he raised his sword to Steel Skull.
“You,” When Nameless spoke, Daviida shuddered, because his voice was so unlike what it was before…there was an echo of something else in it…Daviida shed tears, but tightened his grip on his machete, “are in my way. Move.” Nameless addressed the Gong Chichumba with not even a sliver of ceremony or respect. He was not flirting or negotiating. His command was simple, direct, and absolute.
“Why… Why are you doing this? Why do you bring the dead into this temple…why do you kill your own… What demon possesses you?” Nameless released a chuckle, rooted in some foul space of the Underworld… Steel Skull’s ancestral memories were triggered by the sound…he glimpsed a flashing of a scene…of a crawfish armored warrior; a Choupic, dying in defense of a young Prince, fighting a massive scaled beast with slitted yellow eyes.
“My own…” Nameless said…. “My own, forced me to earn that which was unattainable…content to steal the keeper of my heart from me…to leave me with my shattered pieces and put myself back together…I may have dragged the blade through the Spy Boy… but it was you, Steel Skull, you in your own stubborn pride, who would not allow us to be as we were…. Now, I am changed, now I am strong, stronger than all of you… Maybe I should thank you…” Nameless chuckled, but the Hard Head warriors remained stone eyed…
“Move.” Nameless said again, with finality. The Hard Heads maintained their positions…for five, four, three, two… steel sang. Nameless moved with a quickness that was not natural. Swords clashed, briefly, and blood was spilled…the smell of iron was in the air. One, two, three, hard heads were incapacitated…. But not killed. They screamed out in agony as limbs were cut, clean. The ghoulish warriors of the dead army stepped impassively out the reach of the spilling blood. Nameless was making a show of strength, it mattered little to him if these warriors lived or died.
He fought two more, before Malik Akamaa dared to charge him with a cry of vengeance…. Nameless did not spare him…putting him out of the misery of his grief. His last opponent was Sabaa Daviidaa.
“Move.” That one word… all he offered his father who struggled… Daviidaa was whelmed by this terrible reconciliation, he’d chosen Steel Skull before….he chose Steel Skull now… he said nothing of it, but somehow he knew, Nameless was thinking the very same thought. Daviida did not move, and steel met steel. The Bone Collector was mightier than the others, not as easy to conquer…but alas, Nameless’s sword came singing… but Steel Skull cried out,
“I submit!” The blade of Onyxis stopped just at Daviida’s throat…
“No, Chief…”
“Silence…” Steel Skull spoke, exacerbated…grief shaking him…he threw down his weapon, and shook his head…the mighty Gong Chichumba of his generation, brought to tears…
“Some traumas….” Steel Skull spoke to the unspeakable… the death of Daviida by his own son’s homicidal steel…in his defense… Steel Skull could not deny what Nameless had said…it had been his own willful refusal, to let the young men marry, simply, that had manifested such bloodshed…such possession… he continued, “are not to be endured…not on behalf of my survival… we are in the heart of darkness…so dark that i submit… I have no means of resolving it…” Steel Skull met Nameless’s empty and remorseless eyes,
“The Temple of the Mysteries is yours… your father and I will not stand in your way.” Daviida, full to the brim with emotion, wanted to insist on his own death, rather than face the dishonor of this defeat, but Steel Skull, with the last of his authority, cast a commanding look at the Bone Collector… Daviida, ever loyal, conceded his ego, to abide by his chief’s wishes.
The other hard heads were seen out, but their limbs and their weapons remained in Nameless’s possession. He went to the marble carved seat of the Gong Chichumba, made in the image of the wild creatures of the river. He sat there, and established himself, beyond spy boy, beyond his father, beyond the limitations of men… darkness settled, and the Temple took on an eerie quiet, disturbed by nothing more than the churn of the river’s current, carrying whispers of the woeful.
The Sun Cat
Shaak Tii Khaalii was roused from her prayers by the entry of the Sun Chief into her shrine space. She’d been deep in meditation with her forehead pressed to the floor in front of a marble carved pool of lilies, kept by two golden statues of cheetahs, and hovered by the spread wings of a golden phoenix. The shrine smelled of incense and many candles burned. A calico cat scurried past the chief and his guards in accompaniment. This Chief of the Sun Tribe was Lomanjaaro, he belonged to House Lomaasii, a long standing dynasty that had ruled Bulbancha for centuries. He went to kneel before Shaak Tii Khaalii who looked upon him with amber eyes. Her skin was cocoa brown and her hair was midnight black. Her beauty was legendary. She served the Lomaasiis as a Sun Cat; a familiar to keep their house’s spiritual shrine, to pray for their warriors and honor their dead, and oversee temple keeping. She was unique, in the long line of sun cats however, as she also wore the ring of dawn, Nguailii; signifying her as the familiar of the Sun Phoenix; Naanii Khaalii. Lomanjaaro Lomaasii was known for his aversion of spirituality and supernaturality…he did not visit her shrine often, she knew something tumultuous must’ve spurred his prostration.
He explained to her his dilemma; a young warrior had risen to power in Bulbancha. An Okaliqii who’d come to be known as Nameless. He’d apparently deposed Chief Steel Skull and assumed the mantles of Gong Chichumba at the Temple of the Mysteries. He’d not been satisfied with his conquest of the river though. Nameless was said to have been afflicted by some strange lust for dominance…. He bullied the Hard Head warlords into submission by the strength of his cursed sword and his army of the undead. He’d then moved to force the submission of the seven feathers, and other tribes and small clans…it didn’t matter if they were a true threat to him or not, he demanded displays of submission and offerings of gold and other treasures. Those who refused were beaten or deposed by coups… Bulbancha endured a dark time… Some appealed to the Sun Tribe, who maintained security on the ridged land. Their reign was sovereign and their army was the largest in Bulbancha. For ages, the Okaliqii and the Sun Tribe functioned as allies, but under Nameless’s command, the Sun Tribe was designated as an enemy to himself and his people. His subjects beckoned the Sun Chief to face Nameless, to fight and defend the land, for the Sun Chiefs were known to be of the fiercest warriors there are; the blood of phoenixes, dragons, and fire foxes coursed through their veins…. But Lomanjaaro was a chief raised by his wits, not his brawn…he could not fight Nameless. There were warriors of his house though, such as his brothers; Sitkaa, the Sky Fire Prince, and the Sun Dragon; Gong Solii Kong…. Shaak Tii Khaalii pressed that the Princes could handle Nameless ... .surely…along with the strength of the Skyfires and the army of the Sun Tribe. But Chief Lomaasii insisted, that many who were subjugated to Nameless’s power were not their true enemies, and if he sent the Princes to fight, then the collision of armies would see many Bulbanchans slain, and long orchestrated and sustained alliances destroyed … it was then, that Shaak Tii Khaalii deduced,
“You’ve come to ask me to fight?”
“I have.”
“You know I am forbidden to take action against mortals in this dimension.” She said, and Lomaasii clarified,
“Nameless is not genuine in his power. He is possessed by an ancient demon and commanded by a fish woman, an old time monster of our tribe.” Shaak Tii Khaalii contemplated. She knew of this fish woman, Naaktii. She knew, what Chief Lomaasii did not, that Naaktii had not always been a monster… she supposed, so hadn’t Nameless.
“I am not to fight in civil wars. As Sun Cat, my loyalty is to this temple. As Okiinamaa Lusaa, my responsibility is to every realm and faction.” Shaak Tii Khaalii said, and Lomanjaaro replied,
“I am not asking you to choose sides, I’m calling on you to defend this very temple.” Shaak Tii Khaalii met Chief Lomaasii’s eyes, amber as her own.
“Where is this Nameless, now?”
“He marches onto the ridged land as we speak. He is offended that I nor Sitkaa or Solii Kong have engaged his challenges. He intends to storm the Sky Fire palace with his army of the dead…they will come here…” Shaak Tii Khaalii processed these details, and breathed in deep, and as she did, the candles of the shrine flickered and increased in volume.
“Saliimaa,” Shaak Tii Khaalii spoke, and the calico reentered the shrine. It flicked its tail before its form bursted with light, and changed into a fem warrior in red armor. She carried a machete on her hip. She was one of the Kolukuus, women who could take the form of cats. Shaak Tii Khaalii was of their lineage, which had served the Sun Tribe’s royals across dynasties.
“Prepare my armor.” She said, and the young temple warrior nodded her assent. Shaak Tii Khaalii turned her eyes to the Chief,
“I will fight him,” She said, and the chief moved to fuss about commanding a war party to rally at the base and all around the temple, “alone. Keep your warriors still. I will not meet him until he is within sight of the temple.” The Sun Chief gritted his teeth; it was his intention to send Shaak Tii Khaalii with a force, to keep Nameless from getting anywhere close to his palace, to avoid any destruction to his meticulously kept residence. But he knew better than to challenge her direction. He bowed his head in respect, before rising and leaving the Sun Cat to prepare.
…….
The cry of a cooper’s hawk announced the approach of Nameless and his army. His forces had swarmed the Ridged Land, and had surrounded the Palace of the Sun at the High Mound on all sides. They’d met less and less resistance the closer they got to the palace, which was strange as he’d been expecting a battle of proportion. With the high mound in sight, Nameless felt rage boiling in him, as there were no warriors rushing to defend the palace, no shots fired, no alarms…it was just quiet, save for the footsteps of his own army and the rustle of trees in the wind. Like salt in a wound; first, the Sun Tribe refused to engage him in ritual combat…now they were so arrogant as to not meet him on the field… That was when one of his soldiers pointed ahead, to bring his attention to a figure sitting at the center of a green field…
She was calm as she looked ahead at the approach of the army. Nameless led his warriors on, until he was close enough to see the details of this woman. She wore an armor regalia in the likeness of a king cheetah. Her hair was black and her eyes were amber. She stood, and she was not very tall, but her eyes were ancient.
Nameless and his soldiers thought she might be an emissary. He held back the tide of violence at his command, in case the stillness of this scene was a trap. He sent a warrior to engage the lone woman, and they returned to him with word that Chief Lomaasii and the army of the Sun Tribe had either dispersed or were within the palace, and they would not meet him in battle. One of his warriors suggested that they burn the palace to the ground and destroy the mound and burn everything in sight… but Nameless insisted on some caution…He dismounted his black stallion, and walked to this unafraid woman. He drew his sword, and turned the steel in the sunlight that shone through pockets of heavy grey clouds. The woman simply glanced at the sword, before meeting Nameless’s eyes.
“Do you intend to use that?” She asked.
“If I must… not if the Sun Chief properly surrenders.” Nameless said. Shaak Tii Khaalii raised her brow,
“That won’t be happening. He, nor his house will descend from the palace to meet you. And you will not get past me, to reach him.” She said, and Nameless’s grip on his sword hilt tightened. He did not recognize this woman… his ego processed the absolution of her intention.
“Move out of my way, or I will cut you down where you stand.” Nameless threatened, but the women still did not flinch or falter. She looked Nameless in his eyes and said,
“My name is Shaak Tii Khaalii, you are…without a name, I hear… why don’t you focus on finding one, instead of trying to fill the void of its absence by taking peace from others.” Nameless did not want this woman to take him for a bluffer. He spoke no more words. He brought his sword swinging to cleave Shaak Tii Khaalii in half. But she moved with speed he could hardly process. She leaned back, and the sword passed just over her, before she rose back up. Before Nameless’s return strike could cut her, she moved forward, blocking his forearm with her own, and striking his abdomen with her free hand. She hit him with a strength he’d not expected, and he shot back, hitting the ground hard and almost losing grip of his sword before springing back up….there was pain where she’d hit him. His grip on his sword’s hilt tightened, as he appraised this foe with a different reverence. She looked into his eyes with no fear, drawing a set of twin daggers from her hips. The weapons were ancient heirlooms of her station, they were called the bright fire sais. She shifted into a ready stance, and Nameless did as well, before they were at each other again. More focused, Nameless was not as easy to strike, but neither was Shaak Tii Khaalii. They fought, blow for blow, dodging and weaving. There were many moments where their blades nearly had each other, but they each avoided major injury, sustaining knicks here and there. Nameless was invigorated by this challenge… but also perplexed; all the men he’d broken down…and here she was, five foot flat with not even a sword or a spear…but knives. At last, Nameless did land a blow. He knocked one of the knives from her hands, and drove a kick into her torso that sent her sprawling back. It knocked the wind from her lungs and she rolled across the grass.
“I told you to get out of my way, you should’ve listened, my mercy is scarce.” Nameless said, as Shaak Tii Khaalii pushed herself up on her hands, before she stood. There was some blood out the corner of her mouth.
“I’d not beg you for it,” Shaak Tii Khaalii shot, before she sprang forward. Nameless wasn’t expecting her flurry of movement, she somersaulted toward him, and he may have intercepted her, but she sent her dagger whizzing to his head and he blocked it with his sword. When his guard was open, her thighs suddenly wrapped around him, and then she used the momentum of her turn to pull back and throw him with all her might. He went to the ground, and the force of her limbs were like bricks thrown against him. That time, he did drop his sword, it ricocheted away from him. Shaak Tii Khaalii regained her bearings, and she placed herself between Nameless and the sword. He tried to bypass her, but she sent him back. He tried again, and she did it again. He growled out a breath of frustration, and he tried again, this time, he drew a knife and tried to destroy her, but she ended up knocking that from his hand too, and knocking him to the ground again. He coughed to catch his breath, raising up on bruised limbs… he looked at her hands… she held power in them…skill…skill beyond his own. He was monstrous with a blade…. And his skills in hand to hand combat were formidable, certainly…. But this Shaak Tii Khaalii was a master of some form beyond Nameless’s training. She summoned energy from the base of her feet, through her legs, into her hips, and she willed it to whip across her arms and her wrists to exit from her fists like bullets…. He tried, very hard, to get past her, to reach his sword, swinging with all his might, but she met him with such proficiency. He screamed out in rage…
“How disappointing, I was so hoping to meet your mercy.” Shaak Tii Khaalii, was not cocky in her every day, but in battle, her spirit was gleefully taunting. Her glory was to break down a challenger such as Nameless, who’d presumed to be all powerful, by his defeat of Bulbancha’s war lords… she was happy to remind him, that there were forces of nature who resided in sacred places across this swamp… he may have been the greatest among men, but she was not a man, and she was not in competition with him. She was a defender of her tribe, and his trespass had given her the right to execute her strength in a way she was more often called to reserve. Nameless was furious though, he was fuming with rage…his mind overtaken by the hunger for victory, he could not return to Naaktii, having failed. He called on his horde, and he commanded them to destroy the palace, and burn the trees, enter the waters and massacre the fish, aim their weapons to the sky and fell the birds, defile the soil. At these commands, Shaak Tii Khaalii’s cockiness wavered…she watched as Nameless’s army began to move, and she knew she would not be able to fight this horde as well as Nameless, who she was keeping from his sword…. She had moments, to make a decision, as the army rushed to infiltrate and destroy the high mound. Shaak Tii Khaalii moved…it seemed she was rushing to intercept the horde. Nameless went then to grab his sword. He turned around to see Shaak Tii Khaalii race to place herself between the horde and the high mound. As her back was turned, Nameless moved to destroy her…her vulnerability seemed obvious…
Shaak Tii Khaalii was no fool though…she took a deep breath as her enemies closed in. The garnet ring on her finger glinted, and heat generated from her core. She waited until the ghouls and Nameless were just upon her, before she released the wrath of dawn fire. LIght burst and heat traveled, as a torrent of flame surrounded her. Her enemies were either incinerated or sent sprawling back by the hot force of explosion. She rose, on a tornado of fire. She drew in a breath, before she released a blast of fire from her fists, burning her challengers to ash. Even the undead army of Nameless, was woeful to bear the burning of dawn fire… they cried out the name of the ring like a curse! They had not known that the one who protected the Skyfire Palace was the familiar of the Sun Phoenix; the Okiinamaa Lusaa. Nameless could not even rely on his pride, to drive him against such a force of nature… he had only one hope…to reach the water of a nearby bayou, where the spawn of Naaktii might support his escape. But Shaak Tii Khaalii saw him retreating, and she intercepted him, blocking his way with fire. She crossed the field on her funnel of inferno, before she landed on the ground. Her amber eyes were wild like the flames she cast. She locked Nameless in a torrent, and she manifested a concentration of fire between her palms, before she released it toward him, with intent to kill. Nameless braced, for what would be his end….. But the flames did not touch him….they swirled around him…close to him, singing his hair from his skin…and charring his armor, heating his steel red… but he was not destroyed…. The next thing he saw was Shaak Tii Khaalii, walking through fire to him… he lowered to his knees, and gazed up at this wielder of sun flame…. She spared him, on behalf of an intuition she’d received, at the very last second…. But Nameless considered his mission… and the reality of failure sunk in…
“Why do you hold back…. Destroy me…I am defeated, let me die….” He said, but Shaak Tii Khaalii, though she wanted nothing more than to see this execution through…reserved. She said,
“It is not your time, Nameless… at least, not by my own fire. Go back to Naaktii, and tell her of my wrath and my mercy. Make it clear to her that if she sends you again, I will personally deliver your head to her lair, and then I will take her own. These grounds are sacred, and are under my protection,” She fixed the nail of her pinky under his chin, “do you understand me, Nameless?” Nameless nodded his understanding, before he and his army were sent running in retreat.
Nameless
“You have failed me.” Naaktii said from the throne that was once sat by the Gong Chichumba. Nameless knelt before her, hanging his head in shame, and confusion. His defeat by Shaak Tii Khaalii had triggered an episode of existential crisis; his usual dissociative lust for conquest disrupted by his fixation on failure, and the ripple of visions and memories that were brought up in the turmoil. He thought of the past… of his father and of Jaheim…he wondered about his name…and he lamented his inability to remember.
“She was… like nothing I’ve ever faced…she reigned fire down on us, I…”
“Excuses.” The Fish woman hissed, “You should not have returned until you had the Sun Chief’s head.” Nameless was reluctant to meet the slitted eyes of Naaktii.
“I… I am unwell Naaktii…” Nameless held his temple in his hand, feeling a wave of nausea as he remembered the smell of blood at Jaheim’s passage. He thought of his actions, the violence he’d inflicted upon the world….he recalled it, like sequences of a dream. He smelled his own odor of death and stagnant water. He’d been holding Onyxis in his hand, and it was suddenly heavy…. But he did not unclasp it.
“This has to stop Naaktii… You must release me.”
“I must?” Naaktii laughed, “You signed away your soul to me, Nameless. You are mine. My bidding is your purpose…”
“I… was someone…i was someone before, i had a name…” He tried to recall… but he couldn’t…he tried to think of a way out of this bondage…he could not…he was filled with despair. His eyes streamed tears. Naaktii’s fins erected with alarm… whenever Nameless began to show such an emotion, it was a sign that her magic was waning. He was beginning to break down, when Naaktii’s hands coursed over his scalp, before she cupped his face,
“Shhhhh….there, there, my sweet one.” She wiped his tears, “you are weary from battle, and you need rest.” Nameless grew nervous at her softness…he knew this was how it always started; her manipulations and coercions. He tried to resist, he tried to look away from her…but she’d taken his name. She was in control of his will… he felt himself begin to lull at her soothing, before there was a bursting open of the council room door. A henchman of Naaktii, a humanoid fish creature called a gilgoonah, alerted her that unwelcome guests had come to the Temple of the Mysteries.
“Dispatch them,” Naaktii growled, and the gilgoonah replied, nervously,
“They are…beyond us…” It was only a moment later that Nameless sensed a familiar heat, and heard footsteps… he turned, to see four figures enter, followed by a host of Naaktii’s minions, wanting to do their mistresses' bidding, but terrified to tread beyond their calibers. Naaktii hissed, as Sitkaa; The Skyfire Prince, Steel Skull; the former Gong Chichumba, Sabaa Daviida; The Bone Collector, and Shaak Tii Khaalii; The Sun Cat, entered.
Nameless shuddered at the sight of Shaak Tii Khaalii…at once afraid, and enamored by her. Her amber eyes landed on him, and he turned away in shame… but she did not glare at him with anger or judgement. Sitkaa and the two hard heads had relayed to her the details of Nameless’s past; the context of his corruption by way of pressures to achieve victory over his lover… When Naaktii, who’d been sitting the throne of the Hard Heads like she belonged there, began to protest their interruption of her abuse, Shaak Tii Khaalii dismissed her by addressing only Nameless.
“Nameless…” He struggled to look at her, but she said again, “Nameless, look at me.” With what will he had, he did meet her eyes…it was uncomfortable, and he could only do so briefly, but it was enough for her to know he was listening. She addressed Naaktii,
“We’ve come to take him Naaktii”
“You may not, he signed his name over to me, he is mine.” Naaktii said.
“You’ve bound who he was, but you do not own who he may become.” Shaak Tii Khaalii said. Naaktii hissed, not understanding Shaak Tii’s words, but bristling at the prospect of losing her most prized captive.
“Nameless, you do not have to stay here… leave the sword behind, and come with us. I will take you where Naaktii cannot reach you.”
“Do not listen to her lies… I gave you strength, I gave you power, I gave you victory…. You belong here, with me…” Naaktii said… Nameless shook with nerves, struggling to settle on a clear thought,
“I…I’ve done terrible things. I deserve to suffer…I deserve my fate.” Nameless said, hopelessly and he brought tears to his father’s eyes.
“I condemn your self pity Nameless… I am not here to absolve you, nor deliver you from your fate. Your karma is your own to bear… but there is a way to change your course from here… a way to escape this bondage to the fish woman…. You’ve done terrible things… so, make them right. You will not redeem yourself with Naaktii…and you are not paying for your sins with her either, you are only layering your karmic weight…the more you disassociate, the more she controls you, and the more you destroy. You need to face your pain…face your wrongs, not hide from them behind Naaktii’s control… If you come with me, there will be pain, there will be grief… but you may change, as you will….”
“Nameless…” There was desperation in Naaktii’s voice, “We are so close to victory… so close to the power we've dreamed of… think of all you sacrificed… think of what you escaped…. The judgement, the ostracism, the betrayal by your own clan… they were content to keep you weak…ever waiting for their permission and approval to evolve… is this what you want?” Nameless processed these words… they struggled with direction. They looked to Shaak Tii Khaalii, for more words, more reasons…but she was not like Naaktii, she was not desperate to convince him of anything, she was not dependent on him…she gave him no more words, no encouragements or promises…she did not attempt to counter Naaktii’s statements; they may have been the truth… but truth was wide as an ocean…Nameless could find new truths, new ways, a new path… but he’d have to want it for himself, he’d have to decide for himself. He closed his eyes, and looked for something…anything, in the dark….
“Nameless.” Naaktii put venom in her tone, and nameless felt something grasp his heart…his grip on his sword tightened…he straightened his posture, and he looked over this group… they knew by the glaze over his eyes, that he was someone else than who they’d known.
“Kill them all.” Naaktii commanded, and Nameless sprang forward. It was his father who intercepted him first, but he was joined by the others. Here, in the Temple of the Mysteries, Nameless was much stronger than he’d been at the base of the Sky Fire Palace. Shaak Tii Khaalii could not dominate him so easily, so near the river. The violence erupting was intense… it was when the old Gong Chichumba clutched his abdomen, that Nameless felt a pain in his own chest…. Daviida roared with anger and grief…the old chief went down to his knees, as blood spilled…Nameless shed tears… for his hands were hardly his own…they shook with grief…even in his possession, the very core of him knew this was so foul, so wrong…. But Naaktii’s voice spurred him on, to kill the rest of them…. He strained to summon will, to counter her control…
“It is the sword Nameless! The sword is a conduit for a foul monster who should never sway in this world again…you have to leave it!” Shaak Tii Khaalii pleaded with him… but how could he leave the sword…it was power, security, victory…all he’d fought for…all he’d sacrificed for was that sword… he was afraid, of the vulnerability that came from releasing the steel…the pain he’d have to face…. But this agony, on his father’s face…the grief of the ancestors and the river spirits…. The doom of his clan…it was already unbearable…
He’d long forgotten how to pray… but still, he closed his eyes, and he reached out into the darkness… he tuned out the stimulation of chaos around him…and he drifted, until he landed in a memory… he remembered Jaheim, before things got so bad between them… he remembered the press of his lovers hand… it had been so long…so long, since he’d understood the softness of contact, pure intentioned… he reached out his hand…to anything…the feel of a calloused palm, brought him back to where he was…a familiar scent, which had been comfort when it lingered on his sheets…he opened his eyes, and there before him, was a glowing apparition of Jaheim….Nameless caught his breath…Jaheim smiled softly. Nameless was not certain if the others could see as well… Jaheim did not say anything, he just reached for the hand Nameless carried Onyxis in, and gently unclasped his fingers from the hilt. The sound of steel clanging to the floor made Nameless startle, and as suddenly as he’d appeared, Jaheim was gone, and the commotion of Naaktii’s wailing, and the clash of weapons as her minions attacked Shaak Tii Khaalii and the others was deafening. The dropping of the sword brought on a silence though, before Nameless felt suddenly dizzy, as a tear streamed down his cheek. The grief was too much…the trauma too heavy…he felt a tightness in his chest…and a loss of air in his lungs… his release of the sword, was a release of life force…he felt his energy leave his body. His sight went dark, and he let himself go…
