A Stage Of Bones

I could just die. The Tunnels were so stinky and the sword mommy gave me kept hitting my leg when I walked. It was so annoying. My socks were soaked with dirty water too.  I hate my mom so much.  Mommy said when I get out of this tunnel, I can go far into the forest and play. I walked out of the stinky tunnels to a field of roses. 

 

“Ow,” I say as I reach down to grab a rose. The blood trickled down my finger onto the petals of the flower, disappearing like a drop of rain in the ocean. 

 

Thump, thump, thump, the ground seemed to shake under me, making me lose my balance. I toppled over on the ground as from the earth a sword came. It had an emerald green hilt with a ruby red blade. I felt it enter my body as I let a scream rip through the air. I felt my breath hick and crumble like one of the paper contraptions servants created for fun. 

I woke up in the dark embrace of the night. The sound of hoofbeats. 

 

“Guzrak tukramz.”  said a man in the center of the group of riders to the man to his left. 

 

I lifted my head and looked around as a rider stood above me.

 

“Tukram keshaland,” he yelled while slinging me over his shoulder. My body was limp as it pressed against the steely side of the man. What was going to happen, where are they going to take me? I felt my heart race. I gritted my teeth, mother told me only peasants cry. I held on to the man as he boarded his horse and joined the group of riders. 

 

We rode till dawn came. I felt my left eye burn during the sunrise. The clapping of hands and stomps of feet was the first thing I had heard. Then the large number of tents littered around the barren soil. Greeting the riders were 2 people, one was a stick that could walk and talk, and the other was a man who had his hair pointed to the sky as flies buzzed around him. 

 

“La tukaram iest framel.” He said his muscles rippled like a lake current all the while. disgusting, I thought, closing my eyes in a pitiful attempt to stem my fears. I wanted my mommy. I held on tight as the man dismounted, roughly lifting me off his shoulders briefly. 

 

I closed my eyes once again to stem my fear. When I opened my eyes to the surprise of being placed on the floor, I was surrounded by a mass of nude people. Markings on their backs and chest reminded me of what baldy called the callphat barbarians. The group began to part as the stick man walked through. The barbarians began to stomp.  The nude man walked up to me. I scrambled. He gripped my arm holding me back.

 

‘Sit tukaram’ I heard a voice in my head. I felt a primal fear arise within me. 

 

‘Relax,’ I heard in my thoughts. ‘This is your beginning’

 

I felt his nails dig into my arm as blood trickled down my arm making contact with the ground in a cool splash. I knew something wrong was happening. My insides twirled and knotted up. In the background from around the bonfire, people came out in pairs clashing their blades knocking each other to the floor, and slitting their throats. This happened until any stick-like children wandered out each holding a leaf in hand and seemingly struggled to swallow it. Their eyes then grew a bright red and from their mouths erupted plumes of flame aiming at the other children. I stand watching feeling a wrongness in this disregarding my captor and the steam of blood frothing from his grip. I felt my mind numb the wonders of the world sink in one piece at a time. My eyes grew red like the children and then gray like a war-torn sky.

 

Who knew what things were happening. the crowd had rolled in emotions from utter disgust turning to passion, lust, anger, and hatred. They conducted themselves like a pack of hyenas. They were wild like a purge of sin. The ground painted a dry red and smelt like the inside of the armory after a group of teenage squires ran out. My eyes felt ravaged and tainted. I felt a need for cleanliness. 

 

I scrambled against my captor. Scratching against the ground as I pried myself from his harsh grip. I ran and my mind felt cloudy, it was dirty, wrong. I ran as fast as I could as the group was a speck on the horizon. Yet I sat and I was back with the man's hand around my arm -back at the fire-. The crazed crowd doing things that I had only seen dogs do. The man's grip loosened from my arm.

 

‘This is your destiny,’ he said ‘this is your home’ I felt the man put both hands on my face. He was invisible to me, a demon in sheepskin. All I could see was the barbaric rituals that painted the earth a red of sin. I need my home, I need my mother and father, I need baler, I need my sword, I wish I could just–. 

‘You need a home, you need a guide, you need food, you need water, you need calm’ he said. My eyes were framed with tears as the thought of home quenched a thirst that was everpresent.

 

“Can I go home?” I asked

 

‘The men and women that you see are wild, crazed yet craven. You were destined to come here, this was destined to be your home.’ he said ignoring me.

 

“I want to go home.“ 

 

‘This is your home, the only home you’ll ever have. You're fat and weak like a pig for the slaughter. Shall I feed you to them, ripping your guts? The blood and bile coating my arm? Now come child I am the kindest man you shall ever meet. You may call my name once for your home.’ He waited for me to say his name but I didn’t know it.

 

“I want to go home,” I whispered, “I want to go home.”

 

‘Think of it as a map there to show you the world but not your location does this seem helpful?’ he asked

 

“I want to go home,” I said.

 

‘Hush, Too much noise’ He soothed.

 

“I want my sword.” I said as something within my mind snapped. I began sobbing like a peasant inside the man’s long robes. I felt shame.

Act II

10 years and I felt dead, the chill of the water rendered me limp. Skyfall holy, I felt my thoughts rumble to life as my breath hitched. The dark abyss below me turned into a land of twinkling stars. Upon his chariot was Ugar Wolvesein. His spear stood stark against the stars. 

 

His blue eyes gazed on me as Rashar had done ten years ago. I had been planning for this day since Rashar took me. I clenched my fists rushing towards him. My strikes seemed to slip off his golden armor. I was losing. I gritted my teeth. I would have to think smarter. 

 

He had a spear and I was bare-handed. He was in an advantageous position. I saw a stab coming from his spear. Ugar was slow but careful; he was known for his foresight. I grabbed his spear and tore it from him. He trampled me atop his chariot. Laying on the floor I heard ugar dismount. My body was raking with pain. 

 

In legend, Ugar’s chariot was used as a replacement for the sun. The weight of it must've crushed my bones. I felt a chill across my nape.

I felt a shock as my inner flesh was exposed to the cold air. Rashar had pulled me out of the lake. I felt an itch at my nape and my entire body felt sore. I felt my body had become slightly skinnier. Although not as skinny as some of Rashar’s sacrifices.

‘Ugar grants his blessing,’ Rashar said to me before turning towards Yomkai, a savage, Rashar seemed to like him.

“Uklai zerb zst le diue yet mer,” The Uklai may take him to the godly of flowers Yomkai said.

 

‘You are pathetic, less of a man than when I found you,’ Rashar said ‘Your head shall sit at my lap by the blue moon If you fail.’

 

‘Fail what’ I ask. I felt a throbbing at my temples as I kneeled over. I felt a kick hit my back.

 

‘You are not worthy to speak my mind, worm. Lest I gut you ’ Rashar said

 

“Toklai sherterb” your lot awaits Yomkai said.

. . .

 

I waited outside the tribe gate. The Cursed one should have not taken an outsider. From the distance, I saw a fast-approaching horse atop it was a face all knew, the heir. His bronzed skin and pulled eyes were exotic therefore notable. I loosed my arrow to greet him. 

 

. . .

 

We rode to the edge of the godly of flowers. This was where I had passed out on my first days out into the expanse. 

 

‘What are we doing here’ I asked Uklai.

 

“Voz ru ttevilr nom ttevilr zst geie.” That is your job, my job is done, Uklai said.

 

‘The godly of flowers, what were you told?’ I asked

 

“Nom ttevilr zest geie alt giusreun.” My job is done, stop questioning Uklai, turning his horse and galloping back towards the tribe.

 

‘Turn back’ I ordered.

 

The Uklai ignored me. I dismounted and shooed the horse away before sitting down. I shut my eyes and began to probe my surroundings. The air, the earth, and the flowers. All of them could see me as I could see them. They were shades of black-purple sometimes as vibrant as blood. I could feel the strangeness in the earth as well. Inside were beings I had never seen feeding on the flowers themselves yet the flowers seemed to be eating them too. Below I saw a beetle Its eyes glowed a strange hue of orange, and Its shell was as shiny as onyx. The large bug would have been in the stomachs of the tribe if it hadn’t been hidden.

 

It gazed at me too Its eyes bore into my soul. It intoxicated me like no other drug the tribe had. 

 

‘You are mine’ it said

 

“I am mine” I replied

 

‘I control you’ 

 

“I control you,” I say mockingly, I can’t let anyone control me.

 

I felt a probe that went against my own. I pushed back against it attempting to maintain my position.

’

 

“I will drive you off,” I thought, pushing against its probe. I felt my probe collapse as the beetle seemed to overtake me. My mind seemed to falter as I felt a burn on my forehead as a ruby red blade that was seared into the bones of my skull shone with an everpresent internal light.

 

The roses around me withered into the emerald sea of grass. The smell of ashes seared my nostrils. My clothes had been burned off. 

 

“So many things I cannot control.” I sigh. 

 

“Argh.” I flew into a rage kicking and rolling on the floor like a child. I heard something then, Stomps. the sound of clanging armor from my distant childhood. I scrambled to my feet, rushing to a hill to see what was making the noise. 

 

There it was like a sea of red and white, an army. I turned, running against the cold wind. I must report it quickly.

I burst into Rashars tent. I catch my breath walking to his bedside. He was asleep. I ran outside, there was no one else to tell. The barbarians had only one form of leadership and that was Rashar. 

 

A red veiny scar traveled across its forehead, Yomkai. He would be my last hope. 

 

‘Yomkai!’ I said

 

“Haslah ti?”  what is it He asked looking up from his bowl of meat and honey. 

 

‘I an army is coming from the godly of flowers’ I told him

 

“Teglar attli?” Big battle he asked

 

‘Yes, Call the tribe we are going to battle or else we’ll die.’ I told him

 

I ran to the lake where I had taken the old ways in, I hoped to pray for Ugar’s blessing in this battle. I knelt on the wet mud and made a prayer. Finishing my prayer I went back to the tribe. 

 

I heard the banging of leather shields and onyx weapons as a primitive army stood there. The tribal army ranged from 10,000-40,000. They were clad in leather armor and fur masks. As even the children were talking amongst themselves about the upcoming battle. 

 

Yomkai was in the middle of the thousands of tribals. They formed a circle around him as he spoke too fast to hear. We heard the steps of the coming army as I felt myself become queasy.

Act III

We had charged out first. We were met with an onslaught of arrows. The charge collided with the enemy spearmen. We fought viciously. Our left flank began to crumble when they began catapulting flaming stones. 

 

The center flank was facing both their right flank and center army. I was on our right flank. I felt a wave of heat spread through my body as I finally reached the front lines. The barbarians hit them with their onyx clubs. My sword seemed to cut through the enemy's armor. The sword allowed me to kill almost any soldier effortlessly; it was as if they were fighting nude. Their swords collided against my leather armor. 

Our center had fallen under the joint attacks of their right flank and center. The enemy was encircling our right flank, the last remnants of the barbarian army. I felt my head burn. A surge of strength passed through me. A group of soldiers had surrounded me. I swung my sword and killed 3 of them, before decapitating another. One of the remaining soldiers hit my back with his sword. I fell to the floor before blacking out.

A flicker of light entered my vision guarded by steel bars and the bellows of drunken songs. The ground was stripped clean of any grass. Smells of charred meat filled my nostrils. There was a fogginess in my vision as well.

 

I shake my head to clear it.

“Aye a barbarians awake!” A stout man shouts in a joking manner.

 

“Hey. Do. You. Speak. Eingliesenya?” A tall lean soldier asked slowly like I was a child. Now that my head was clear I knew I was locked in a cage. A campfire was surrounded by at least ten people. 

 

“Where are we heading?” I asked. The soldiers look taken aback. The soldier who asked me the question remains fairly calm. 

 

“Guess the barbarian doesn’t have good ears.” He said. A chuckle spread out amongst the soldiers.

 

“Odd barbarian slaves never escape.” A fairly dashing young man with long brown hair said. 

 

“Not many know how to speak Einglesenya either.” A bulky soldier responded.

 

“I haven’t been a slave!” I say outraged at the assumption. 

 

“Hmph, the barbarian speaks so primly and proper.” One of them mocks. Wait where’s my sword I think. I touch myself then look around the cage.  I don’t have my sword. I need my sword. Without it, I have nothing of my parents.

 

“Where is the sword?” I question with rage seeping into my voice. They look at each other. The stout man smirks.

 

“Now this is the most barbarian thing he has said all night. I heard that the barbarians take a weapon with them when they bed.” The stout man said. He didn’t answer my question. 

 

“My fathe-” The bulky man said

 

“Where is thy sword!” I yelled spittle flying from my mouth. I shook the cage like a mad chimp. The tall lean one flashed as he picked up his spear and poked me with it. I recoiled as it pierced my side. They threw a bandage in and went on with their jabberings. 

 

I heard what I could. Rashar had fled, not without first casting a curse killing a heavy swath of them. My sword was probobly to be sold for a pretty penny. I was separated from the tribe because they assumed I was dangerous, due to the tribes avoidance of me.

5 years had passed since I was taken to the empire. I had been traded amongst 3 slave owners. Since they thought all barbarians were strong and hardy I was forced to work in the fields for my first master. Then after I had fallen due to exhaustion I was traded to an iron mine. Finally, after passing out from the fumes a schooler offered to buy me. I had spent 2 years with her as she gave me books to read and catalog.  One day she said she had important news to share. She had invited me to her study

 

“I am being invited to the palace.” She said. Her words were stiff. She appeared nervous as my eyes trained from my days out with Rashar and saw she was carrying weapons.

 

“What shalt thou wish for thy to prepare?” I asked. I looked around the room. There were maps spread about and blueprints thrown up against the wall. Pictures of tunnels and knives. I assumed she was going to do something risky.

 

“Nothing.” she said with the same stiffness. Her brown eyes were darting from me to a journal that sat on her desk.

 

“Are they attempting something reckless?” I asked. I felt something in the air. It was similar to the feelings I got on the day of the coup when I had to run through the tunnels carrying a sword at my side.

 

“Stop questioning, I have a request will thou shake thy hand?” She asked. I hesitated any contact between a slave and a master was prohibited, but…but. I can’t disobey a master either.

 

“I ca-” 

 

“I demand It, Now!” she said as I gripped her hand. I felt my head melt as my vision curdled and my eyes slithered. My skull, the same feeling I had felt years ago touched me again. It hurt and the beetle, I remembered. It almost spoke to me. I felt my back churn as my bones creaked and snapped and my head bled and morphed into something inhuman. 

 

“The prophecy shall be fulfilled.” She said as from the shadows two other hooded figures emerged.

 

“The prophecy shall be fulfilled.” They repeated.

I fell on my back as my skin turned an obsidian black and a horn grew from the front of my face.

 

“What have you done to me!” I screamed. 

 

“Unlocked your potential.” she said. Gripping a vase and bringing it up to my face. I felt my head burn as its contents sank to my stomach. I thrashed as my eyes grew numb. Their use was gone. Utterly blind I could feel the vibrations coming from everything. A new sense of sight was unlocked for me. I attempted to make a fist until I found I had no hands. My body had become an embodiment of a humanoid insect. It was a work of fiction and I had trouble wrapping my head around my reality. 

“ Since we had divined your location using an oracle to the beetle we have begun preparations for a coup,” she said “You will be integral to keep the nation together afterward. You must remember the day you ran from the palace, young prince.” She said taking long pauses made conversation seem robotic.

 

 It had felt so long ago yet now I know the day I ran from the palace mother was panicked. I should have known. I still don’t understand why they chose me, they could have chosen anyone the common people won’t have thoughts of identifying royalty.

 

“Why me, why not some other boy?” I asked

 

“You have been blessed by magical beings, one being the sword of Magyar -The royal sword of the kingdom-. In addition to a blaze within you and the blessings of the beetle our patron with you on the vanguard it will clear up much opposition.” she explained

 

“But I don’t even have the sword.” I said 

 

“Let me handle that.” she said

 

“I ne-” 

 

“Now is no time for chit-chat rest, we begin the plan in 3 days the day of the celebration of cunstitiouation.” she cut me off the other 2 robed fellows fading into the shadows

 

We spent the 2 days preparing carriages. I had been briefed on the plan and introduced to other members of the group. My job would be one of the easiest. Under a concealment hex, I would sneak in and assassinate the old rebel leader. He dethroned my parents and was the reason I had to run

 

 I had to get used to my beetle-like body. At night I could blend in with the dark during the day though I stuck out like a sore thumb. My hands were bent and were similar to scythes, and my horn was fairly large as well. In addition to the increase in strength, I had received. Sadly I was far slower than the normal human moving at 1 mile per hour.

 

 

“Use it wisely, It wasn’t something that should have been given to a child but you’re its chosen.” she said handing me the magical sword

 

“The youngest people are often the best equipped,” I reply

 

“Just complete your duty and we shall see.” she said turning away

 

“Wait…” I say “How do I even use it?”

 

“Figure it out young buck.” She said, I held the sword between my scythe-like appendages.

It had tried to hold the sword continuously with my new body yet it never quite worked. When I swung the sword it would slip from my non-existent fingers or when I stabbed, the pommel would shove into my guts. It was a jittery feeling, trying to figure out how to hold the one thing that was closest to you. I couldn’t use it. The thought sent chills up my spine. It was a nightmare that woke me from my sleep.

 

The day had come and the scholar clamored as noises were about her office. I had sat steadily in the middle of a hex circle. She and a group of people who were dressed like the robed figures in her office started chanting. I felt a tingle journey down my carapace like a spider down its web. I felt darkness surrounding me as I was seemingly blind. 

 

“I can’t see.” I said as my breathing quickened I felt. 

 

“Ushla hurmuna qeslada,” They chanted, ignorant to my comment  “qeslada hurmuna alshla.”  The chanting faded as I heard muffled whispers in my ear.

 

“Use your other senses child, surely you haven’t forgotten.” a voice said above the whispers I heard in the dark. I felt a thumping in my chest as darkness had waves of light ripple through it like dropping a stone in water. As the waves went and faded I could see the dark-robed figures as the wave of light interacted with them. I remembered this vision. 

 

“This will be how you see while the hex takes place, the world can’t see you and you can’t see the world, you must use the sight of the beetle to complete your objective.” She said somewhat swiftly. I felt a question bubble up right at that moment.

 

“How will I find his room?” I asked her. My vocal cords scraped against each other, as nails on a blackboard sound trailed along with my words. 

 

“Like all bugs, just dig up to it.” She replied, I lifted my voice to ask another question but realized it wouldn’t make sense. The walls of the palace were as wide as a peasants' entire home. They were built to withstand a siege from the hillmen, of course I could dig through it. 

It was at dusk when I arrived at the palace. Liyla and the carriages had yet to arrive when I began my digging of the walls. The sounds of the ball were loud enough to be heard clearly through the walls. I was pulsing as I went to find the rebel leader. The walls were incredibly hard to dig through as they were made of solid rock. 

 

Liyla arrived at midnight, entering the ball unspectacularly. Though there was quite a commotion a few hours later as they had begun singing her name. She was very gregarious for a low-born scholar. 

 

It was almost dawn by now traces of warmth stroked my carapace. I discovered the leader of the new kingdom -the rebel leader, also had a short reign of 20 years-  While pulsing. I went through great difficulty to burrow through the wall. The sounds of rubble hitting the ground were harsh and yet the man slept soundly. I carried myself to his bedside as I saw the sickly silhouette of the man.  I held my arm up to his throat. I slashed his throat with my scythe. 

 

The man's head fell to the ground with a thump. I heard a door creak open as the eyes of a small boy peered inside. He stumbled back startled.

 

“Ahh!” He screamed, looking at the dead body. He would tell them about the headless body if he got away, I thought.  I made the quickest escape, I could probably rush back out to the rendezvous area.

 

I buried myself underground and waited till dawn came when Liyla came out with a contingent of guards. They reminded me of the army who had taken my tribe, similar weapons. Maybe I’m just being delusional, of course I was blind, my pulses show me silhouettes not colors.

 

Liyla boarded the wagon and sent the guards on their way. I rose from the earth and hopped inside the cart along with her. 

 

“Nobles are so vile.” She said We entered her manor, her acolytes greeted her with a bow before they reversed the concealment spell. 

 

“You will need to alter your appearance for th-, huff. Either way, till then you are to sit within it,” she said her voice filled with exhaustion.  

 

I had to spend a week inside a hex circle, my appearance slowly changing. I gripped my sword with my now semi-human-looking yet nonoperational hands. I felt the edges of the silver blade and the hilt that was filled with weariness. I felt my father and my mother’s father and all the previous generations that held this blade. It felt draining.

 

My forehead began to throb as I saw the world through their eyes. When the blade had first come in contact with a human. Time was young and the man was old. He first gripped the blade when people of his clan -an archaic thought- launched him into the ocean for treason. There he saw the blade, but he was forced to make a choice. A banshee had come to him.

 

Their eyes were full of drowned souls. It had gripped his hand and pulled him closer to the sword. Taking his attention and giving him a task.

 

“Take the blade and rule the land. The ocean weeps for the crimes of sand. Sing a song on your last breath. To make sure you are a dad.” They had sung. Their voices would plague his mind till his first blood.  He did as promised, founding the first human kingdom, then upon his death, he cleared his cache and passed the blade to his firstborn son. Thus was tradition till the rebellion. 

 

I had felt my bond deepen with the blade. Yet on my skull, the flames licked me making me kneel. My skull blaze was burning deeper, I felt anger grow with it as well.

 

I had spent a month healing after being knocked unconscious in the circle. By now the tendrils of the rebel king’s death had reached the far corners of the kingdom. Liyla had been busy as a vote was being held amongst the aristocracy and a worthy scholar needed to be present to document the event.  I in turn was to be taken as a witness as well. 

 

The trip there was bumpy but not without benefits once we had arrived a feast was held the day before the voting began. I filled my belly with some of the most delicate meats and stew -leftovers- the meat seemingly melted within my jaws.  

 

On the day of the vote, tensions were at their peak. Many aristocrats dragged along some soldiers for protection. Once inside they began discussing how they should proceed. The late king had died without an heir. For 330 years since the kingdom's founding, there hasn’t been one circumstance of the royal family not having an heir. 

 

My thoughts began connecting like pillars smashing into each other and becoming a new bigger pillar. The aristocracy still is the same families before the coup of my father. Therefore they might not be against the reinstatement of the original royal family.  I whispered into Liyla’s ear.

 

“They received more benefits under the previous ruler’s regime therefore they are inclined towards their self-interests.” She replied, following the discussions while picking at her lip. 

 

“ Why don’t one of the aristocrats ascend the throne.” Someone suggested. A fierce clamor erupted with some voting in favor of the idea while others were against it.

 

The discussion continued for hours in the end we went home. I was told to stay in the attic until the hex wore off. I waited, but boredom was a horrible experience. I paced till time felt still. Liyla walked into the room her eyes betrayed her weariness. 

 

“What happened?” I asked her.

 

“Nothing.” She said

 

“Whats nothing, why did I have to stay in the attic.” 

 

“It’s magic ok figure it out yourself.” 

 

“Bu-.”

 

“Sit on it, no need to say it.” Liyla stated

 

“I need to know how am I going to help you.” A wave of sudden anger cascades as she lunges towards me.

 

“I don’t need anyone’s help and certainly not a slave’s!” She said gripping my chitin neck in her feeble arms that carried a surprising amount of strength.

 

“You need me I am blessed.” I whimpered. I felt my innards seeping out. A dagger was pressed against my carapace. 

 

“Why?” I asked

 

“Because you were a loose cannon, you lost the god’s favor.” she said

 

“And the time for nobles is over.” she whispered I felt my world fade as a true death encased me. I will get my revenge, someday I will come back and the world will weep for me.

 

I felt a tug as my consciousness faded. It was the sword of Magyar. I felt it pull me in. There was so much my dynasty was locked inside the blade. There was a society within all vying for control of the weapon. This will be the way I return with this blade and a herald.

 ‘Where’s Ugar when you need him?’

Epilogue

The cult of liyla committed a coup poisoning the aristocrats at their 3rd meeting. There was a small conflict but the cult succeeded, utilizing magic to strip away any military prowess the aristocrats once had. The coup ended up forming the theocracy of Ptera.

 

I bided my time as I discovered that by utilizing the blaze that was now within my soul, I could enslave members of my dynasty. Slowly I built my way up, soon controlling the entirety of the blade. I just need a medium to fulfill my will. Soon I will have my vengeance and soon they will share my pain.