God Of Immortals

"And you, young man. Maybe, just maybe, there's something you can do about the darkness surrounding your soul."

"Huh?" Ju Feng exclaimed. Something about his death? There was nothing he could about it, was it? Everybody confirmed that to him.

"Don't get me wrong, you'll certainly die, but there could be a way to go about your death. I've seen it done before. If you all help out, I will tell you about it."

The king replied after seeing Ju Feng expression. 

"I'll leave you now, so you can discuss this without my shadow cast over you. I'll send a guard to you in a while to show you to where you'll be staying." 

The king said, as if he sensed his shock and anxiety. 

They all stood as the king left the hall. Chang Chang listened to the dwarf's heavy, echoing boot tread recede until the great doors opened and shut, and they were alone.

"I don't trust him. He's hiding something." 

Chang Chang said. She didn't care if the guards overheard her. She shook her head before drinking the rest of her wine in one gulp.

"He's hiding many things," Ju Feng said. "But he's also desperate."

"Must be, if he wants our help," Chang Chang said. 

"Desperate men are dangerous, especially desperate rulers." Ju Feng added. 

"Even if we stay, what can we possibly do to make a difference in this fight? Many dwarves don't even want outsiders here. Will we truly find a welcome?"

"It doesn't matter." 

Ju Feng said before continuing. 

"He offered us the sphere that you need. He also want to help me about the death that's following me around."

"And if I die trying to strip the magical energy from this yaomo prisoner or you die in a fight against a yaoguai army, the sphere will mean nothing," 

Chang Chang said and continued. 

"And the knowledge you are aiming to receive will mean nothing. Too many things could go wrong here."

"It's best if we aid the dwarves however we can, but we'll be careful," 

Ruen said and raised a hand before Chang Chang could protest. 

"It's dangerous, yes, but that part of the bargain is easy enough for me to fulfill. The dwarves obviously need all the help they can get."

"That's true. I don't like the idea of any of these folk bein' herded like rats by their enemies. It's not a fair fight."

Chang Chang had to agree. Droya and her dwarven family were good people. They didn't deserve the doom fast approaching them. Weariness hit her again. She put her chin in her hand, resisting the urge to lay her head on the table. But the gesture failed to deceive Ju Feng. 

"It's time to rest." 

He said, standing. He held Chang Chang's glaive out to her. The blade glowed faintly when she took it. Though she hadn't had it long, the glaive seemed to recognize her touch, knew it apart from any other. After all, it was her soul weapon. She drew the glaive into her soul space which attracted Ju Feng's interest, but she wasn't paying any attention to it. Her mind was on the heavenly artifact. Would the Arcane Script Sphere be the same? Would the divine's memory reach out to her? Chang Chang's heartbeat quickened at the possibility, the temptation so near at hand.

Ah, Mystra. What great mess have we stumbled into, and will we regret it before the end?

The guards snapped to attention when king Laggarma entered the dungeons, a black glare fixed on his face. "Open the cell," he commanded the nearest guard.

"Yes, my king." 

The dwarf hurried ahead and fumbled with the keys. 

"Be careful, my king. He got hold of some poison somehow. We searched him and chained him, but he might have more of the stuff hidden."

"I'm not afraid of his godsdamned poison." 

King Laggarma shoved open the cell door, slamming it against the adjacent wall. Gallazza, the yaomo, lay on the floor, his hands chained behind him. King Laggarma crossed the room in two strides and grabbed the drow by the robe. He lifted him bodily from the floor and slammed him against the wall. The breath whooshed out of Gallazza, and his face creased in pain, but he did not make any sound. He kept his gaze on the floor and did not meet king Laggarma's eyes.

"We should kill him, my king," said a rough, feminine voice from the doorway.

King Laggarma swiveled his head to regard his weaponmaster. The hatred in his expression did not abate. 

"No one is to touch him, Moriaka. Let me be understood on this. Swear an oath!" 

He shouted when she didn't immediately reply. 

"I'll have a godsdamn oath from all of you! Those who won't do their duty are free to leave this city."

Gasps and murmurs echoed from the hall outside the cell, but king Laggarma ignored them. Moriaka met his furious gaze and did not flinch or turn away from his wrath. She was his weaponmaster for a reason, he thought, but her proud, stubborn gaze only fueled his anger. He wished they would leave him alone with the yaomo. None of them understood the danger he posed, not truly. They wanted him dead. He was a curse of ill luck, a bad omen for the battle to come. King Laggarma agreed with them. He wanted nothing more than to rip the yaomo's head from his shoulders, but he dared not. He dared do nothing until he knew what sort of Gu necrosis, dark energy, had remade the drow.

"By my oath to your service, my king, I won't let anyone harm the yaomo." 

Moriaka said steadily. 

"All the men and women here share that oath. We are yours."

"I know it." 

Kibg Laggarma said, nodding curtly. 

"Go and wait for me at the outer door. Keep one of your men with you. We'll be along in a moment."

Moriaka raised an eyebrow at we, but she made no comment. She bowed and left the cell.

Throughout the exchange, the yaomo had not said a word. He kept his eyes on the floor, and to all appearances was as tame as a whipped dog. But king Laggarma knew better. He grabbed a fistful of the yaomo's black, greasy hair and jerked his head back, forcing the yaomo to look at him.

"So it begins again?" 

The yaomo said, swallowing. His eyes rolled in their sockets, but he couldn't escape Mith Barak's gaze. The dwarf leaned forward until his silver beard touched Gallarzzas face.

"I'm not here to interrogate you, Gallazza," 

King Laggarma said. 

"I thought about killing you, but that's too easy. It's what you want, isn't it? That's why you killed your guard, why you took a man from his wife and son, made him die horribly just by sticking him with a death needle." 

He released a breath, leaned back, and dropped the yaomo. Gallazza crumpled to the floor. He was weaker than king Laggarma expected—or else he was only playacting. King Laggarma shook his head in disgust as he gazed down at the yaomo. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to deal with these creatures. To him they looked smaller, more pathetic than they had the last time he'd emerged from his sleep. Yet gather enough of them together and they threatened everything he loved. They leaped from dark corners and slaughtered his men with poison and dark energy. He hated them, not for what they were—it was in their nature to kill and to feel nothing, to revel in wanton destruction—but because they continued to thrive, to press forward while his city steadily declined. 

Heavens tears, it wasn't fair. None of this was fair.

"Get up." 

King Laggarma said. When Gallazza didn't move, he took a key from his spatial sac and held it up.

"I'm taking you from this cell, Gallazza. On your feet—I know you can walk."

The yaomo fixed his gaze on the metal key in king Laggarma's hand. 

"You're going to kill me, then?" 

He betrayed no emotion other than curiosity. Slowly, he sat up, braced his feet, and stood. Though bound, he exhibited a grace and strength that reminded Laggarma how lethal even this small creature could be when free. Until true immortality and heavenly ascension, we are all simply shells, king Laggarma thought, our inner natures masked until it's impossible to tell what is real and what illusion.

"Walk ahead of me, Gallazza," 

The king instructed. He followed the yaomo out of the cell and down the hall to the outer door, where Moriaka and one of the guards waited. They kept their features in check, but king Laggarma felt their hatred for the yaomo. He saw it in their stiff postures, the way their hands gripped their weapon hilts. They held themselves in check only for the love of their king. Seeing them stretched like that to the breaking point gave king Laggarma yet another reason to despise the yaomo.

They left the dungeons and ascended to the main caverns. Pools of silvery light splashed on the stone avenues, deserted except for a line of guards deployed at various points between the dungeons and king Laggarma's private chambers at the back of his hall.