The Auric Insignia (14 page)

A monster

- Can’t you two smell if someone is in there?

     - Normally we probably could, but this odor blocks out everything else.

     - Typical.

     - Care to give it a try, human?

     - Okay, okay.

     The trees, like Refaz had said, grew more far apart here, bleak cyan hues substituting the more deep green tones that dominated the northern forests of home Roarke’s home. They didn’t seem healthy, like a veil lay over them, draining them of their life and vibrancy. Crooked and gnarled trunks twisted around themselves in a austere landscape, pale tall grass sprouted from more solid ground, mixed with mire and dark water. Roarke found it hard to concentrate with his throat feeling like he had swallowed broken glass, and his nose feeling like he had shoved needles up in it.

     Up ahead, some two hundred feet in front of them, were a constellation of houses, more or less simple clay huts, by the looks of it. Small and unassuming, they blended into the scenery with their ochre colored walls and thatched roofs.

     - Okay, sitting here won’t make us any wiser, let’s go.

     Following Roarke’s words, they moved with slow, premeditated steps, the terrain making it hard to advance with much grace. As they reached halfway to their goal, a string of firmer ground ran through their path. A packed dirt strip, made out of landmasses, stomped and pounded into a crude road, going north to south. They made their way across and continued towards the huts, the ground they walked on getting more and more water-filled with each step, and with it, the footing grew more treacherous.

     Carefully putting down his foot on what he thought was hard soil, Roarke’s right foot sunk into the grass covered earth, now turned into a muddy quagmire. The sucking, wet sound, made all three of them stop to see if they had been noticed, frozen in their movement like statues. Ama looked at Roarke like he was cursing Roarke’s human shortcomings. When they didn’t hear any signs that they had been heard, they resumed the stretch that still remained between them and the clay buildings, with Roarke taking even greater care to step on sturdy footing. With silent gestures and the mute words communicated through looks, they split up, encircling the houses. Roarke sneaked up around the first hut, spear in hand. He followed along the round, rough exterior wall until he found a simple entrance, lacking a door. Inside was just the one room, dead grass lying in a pile, making a primitive bed on one side, with soot covered stones making a crude fireplace on the other. Not finding anything of note, Roarke turned around and went outside again, locking eyes with both Ama and Refaz across a small open area that was littered with signs of human activity, both of the Kappas shaking their heads in response. Roarke grew more relaxed, thinking the houses must have been abandoned, or at the very least that the occupants were off doing something else. Calmer, the potential of confrontation getting lower with each passing moment, he set off towards the next house to check for anything that could help them on their quest.

     The next hut was larger than the first one he had checked. Inside, roughly sorted, standing against the wall, were a collection of tools. Makeshift shovels and hoes, along with other tools Roarke didn’t know the name of, all of them looking to be in a poor state, both the handles and the instrument themselves, suffering from some sort of corrosion. Though he would not have thought it possible, the smell, the sharp odor, was even stronger inside the hut than it had been out in the open. He looked around for a possible source of his heightened plight, when he noticed that a portion of the ground, the packed earth that made up the hut’s floor, wasn’t a floor at all, but rather a pool of some ominous liquid, the surface still. Walking around it, Roarke picked up a tool and poked the skin. It was clearly not solid, nor just any mud either, it was more viscous than water, clinging to the tool. It was like a thick sludge of death, releasing a faintly colored gas that blended with the air as he disturbed the previously still pool.

     - Fuck, what is this?

     Both the tool in his hand and the pool in front of him remained mute, like most, if not all inanimate objects do, and Roarke’s question died out against the uneven clay walls around him, unanswered. Feeling his discomfort reaching new levels because of the smell coming from the substance in the pool, he dropped the tool with which he had prodded around in the strange material and started for the door, eager to breathe the relatively fresh air outside.

     Blub.... He stopped, not sure what he had heard. Blub, blub. Roarke turned back around just in time to see something breach the surface of the sludge, dragging it along like a veil, flowing and clinging around the small shape.

     - Ama, Refaz!

     Coming gasping out of the hole was the black shape of a boy, quickly joined by two larger shapes, one in the shape of a woman, and the other in shape of a man.

     - Ama, Refaz, get the fuck in here! Now!

     The Kappas rushed from where they had been looking around, joining Roarke by the small opening.

     - Roarke, what is it?

     - Have you found something?

     - I guess you could say that.

     With equally apprehensive, but more scared expressions on their faces, the two adults positioned themselves between the child and the, to them, three strangers standing above them.

     - Please sirs, good sirs, I know we don’t have....

     - You monsters, I won’t let you take our son!

     The woman acted quickly, flinging a handful of the stinky slime at Roarke who stood in front, before heaving herself up, swinging wildly around her.

     - Go Staffan, take Arni and run! Go!

     Her efforts, though valiant, were in the end, futile. Roarke had managed to dodge her attempt at a blinding attack and her malnourished frame proved no match for Roarke, who quickly managed to overpower her.

     - Die, you fucking monsters!

     - Hey, calm down!

     - Please good sirs, please don’t hurt my wife. Please, she is just, just, please good sirs, please don’t.

     - We are not here t-, ow, fucking bitch!

     Given no other option, the crazed mother had snaked her way around in Roarke’s grip, biting into his ear, drawing blood. Roarke wriggled free, feeling his flesh tear under the woman’s teeth. Enraged and confused as to what was going on, Roarke’s patience finally ran dry, and he punched his female assailant, knocking her out cold.

     - Mom!

     - Quiet, Arni.

     The two Kappas stepped around Roarke, moving up to the dark pool.

     - Get up out of there, human, or be lifted out.

     They moved outside, Roarke, carrying the unconscious woman whilst Ama and Refaz walked behind him, escorting the husband, who was trying to stay calm whilst at the same time trying to comfort his scared son. Roarke dropped the woman to the ground with a thud, and with his hands free, he reached up the feel the damage, only to notice that half his left ear was missing, bitten off. He looked at his gloved hand, all covered in blood and he felt the all familiar anger boiling up inside of him.

     - Please sir, Aneka didn’t know what she was doing. She will behave, nothing like this will ever happen again, I swear! Please, please.

     The man threw himself on the ground and started kissing Roarke’s boots, who, disgusted with seeing the man in such a sorry state, crawling in the dirt, felt the rage simmer down inside of him, annoyance replacing it.

     - Okay, Staffan is it?

     - Yes sir.

     - Well stand up, Staffan, no man deserves the reverence you’re giving.

     The man stood up, his original fear now mixing with more confusion and uncertainty.

     - Sir, I...

     - No sirs around here, okay? I’m Roarke, this is Refaz and the ray of sunshine over there is Ama.

     The man looked timidly towards where Roarke was pointing, not sure what to think, let alone say. He had a slim build, standing slightly shorter than Roarke himself. His body underneath the dark layer of sludge, was covered in what looked like burns, most severe in the extremities but also appearing elsewhere in patches of varying intensity. He was dressed in a simple tunic that, when whole, would probably have gone to his knees, but that now ended unevenly in tatters around his thighs. Looking at his wife lying on the ground, Roarke could see that she seemed to have suffered the same injuries.

     The son stood still, frozen, with his red, irritated eyes fixed on his mother, lying still on the ground by Roarke’s feet. Roarke wasn’t overly fond of kids, and he never had been, for as far back as he could remember as an adult, and even as a teenager, they had always made him feel uncomfortable. Not really to any fault of the children themselves, he knew, acting the way children should. He figured that perhaps it was their chaotic nature, the disorderly element that they personified, to varying degrees. Children, in general, depending on their age and mindset, couldn’t really be reasoned with. They acted, even more so than adults, on pure unhindered instinct, seldom, if at all, considering the consequences for themselves or for anyone else around them.

     - Is he your son?

     - Yes sir.

     - Roarke.

     - Roarke, sorry.

     - What’s his name?

     - It’s Arni, after my father.

     - Okay, why did your wife, Aneka, say “I won’t let you take our son”?

     The man, who earlier had had his words stumble over themselves on their way out, due to stress, now got tongue tied.

     - Speak, human!

     The man recoiled as if he had been slapped across the face.

     - Perhaps Roarke should handle this, dear brother.

     - Staffan, despite what you may think our purpose here is, I can assure you, we are not here to take anyone. We only want information.

     Staffan looked anxiously at the Kappian brothers, standing behind him on either side.

     - We thought you were sent from the keep, sent to collect.

     - A keep, where!?

     - Ama, seriously!?

     Ama swallowed his curiosity, grinding his teeth in frustration.

     - We don’t know of any keep, we are from north east of here, we think. From a small town of Brightseed, have you ever heard of it?

     The disheveled man shook his head, sending dark drops of sludge flying from the tips of his hair. The panic he had felt and given voice to before was now dissipating, though he still look worried. His eyes darted from Ama to Refaz, and then back to Ama, until a light went on for Roarke.

     - Staffan, have you seen a Kappa, someone like Ama or Refaz, before?

     Once again fear began to spread over the man’s face, as he spoke in a hushed voice, like as if he was terrified that his words would reach the wrong ears.

     - No, never in person but....

     - But?

     - There are stories,stories that will make your blood curdle.

     With those ominous words, the air almost seemed thicker, stale and uncomfortable, even more so than before. The ears of the Kappas flexed attentively as to not miss the poor man’s words.

     - We all work for the keep, digging up this sludge, which we then deliver to the stations by the keep.

     - What’s in it?

     The man raised his scarred hands to show to Roarke.

     - It’s valuable, that’s all we know.

     - The substance causes those burns?

     - Yes.

     Hearing this information, Roarke saw, like for the first time, that all three members of the family were covered from top to toe in the corrosive slime.

     - We have to get that off you! Don’t you have any clean water around here?

     - We collect some rainwater, but it’s not much.

     - Where?

     - Over there.

     Without waiting, Refaz set off from the group, sprinting towards the hut that the man had pointed out. Returning shortly after with a bucket that was half full.

     - This is all I found.

     - Staffan, is this all you have?

     - Yes.

     - But there was a rainstorm!

     - Not around here, the rain rarely falls here, this close to the swamps, and much of what do fall is sour, wrong. Please, let Arni have that water, me and my wife are already scarred.

     As he finished talking, the man smiled a sad smile, knowing full well what torment they would have to endure if they were to not properly remove the sludge. Roarke admired the courage and selflessness that the man showed, asking himself if he would have done the same if their roles had been switched, and it was he who was facing such agony.

     - At least wipe you and your wife off.

     Roarke returned to the first hut and quickly retrieved the dead grass that had made up the bed, bringing it back.

     - Here.