Zaldizko - Chapter 2 The Lantern Room

I experienced an uncanny dream that felt vividly real. In the dream, I was staring at part of my face from Small Cap’s eyes, but with a third person voice perspective. Almost like I was reading pages from a novel.

[One of Small Cap’s spindly legs checked the soft flesh of the two-legged creature sprawled, lifeless, on the wet ground they had been dumped on by a scary tree-two-legs in black.

He didn’t like two-leg creatures, preferring to stay clear from them. However, this two-leg had spent time nursing him back to health from an injury with all his favourite foods. He treated him nicely. This two-legs was Freend.

“Is Freend okay?” He rubbed his forelegs worryingly.

“Wake up.” The tip of his leg pushed as hard as it could against Freend’s cheek.

He couldn’t see his face clearly, but felt his thin fur was warm.

“Alive, good.”

He looked around the place they were in, trying his hardest to take stock of their location. Shining blue floors and walls shimming with weird patterns of rainbow light were the only aspects he could see. They gave him a not-real feeling.

A low drone, vibrations and a sensation of shifting stone made the hair on his back prick up with fear.

“Place not good for Freend and me.” Small Cap had concluded. “Must get out. Get safe.”

He jumped off Freend’s face to hunt for an exit.]

“Small Cap!” The spider’s name came out of my mouth upon waking.

I opened my eyes and paused for breath. I saw the same blue floors Small Cap had seen in my dream. I sat up and saw that I was surrounded by the same weird walls.

“Not a dream.” I had concluded.

Yet if I had been looking through Small Cap’s eyes, why the third person perspective?

Was it an observation from another person, and I happened to tap into their mind? What was this place? Where was Small Cap? More importantly, where was Pesti?

My body tingled from the floor’s vibrations. I blinked back intense light from the shimmering walls. A belly grumble roared throughout the room; followed by an overpowering din of chattering voices.

“Bring down thy curtain of eternal night!” Boomed a voice with deep baritones.

“Save us!” Pleaded the voices of children.

[Many voices chanted and reverberated continuously around the poor boy’s ears, who struggled to keep a hold of his senses and sanity.

As a freshly dipped ink pen was pressed to a blank page of an open book, a revelation was being made. Famine encountered the Narrator in all his splendour and majestic glory.

“What the hell?” His exasperation heated the back of his hand, which covered his mouth.

The boy gazed on, in awe.]

“Stop it! As if!” I cursed at the creature parading before me.

It was fashioned in a black and red costume of a court jester with silver bells dangling off its fool’s hat. There was definitely nothing funny about the pair of bulging blue eyes set within a painted white face and its red mouth stretched wide, so the corners almost touched the ends of its floppy ears. A blue book hovered before it.

[Alas the Narrator could not savour a fine meal this time. Already the stomping boots were on his doorstep, the calamitous voices and rapid piercing noises were focused on breaking down his door.

“This is where I say goodnight Famine,” he said.]

The court jester opened his book to call upon a third eye cakra symbol. He disappeared through the black hole the symbol had made. The hole vanished.

“Ugh!” I screamed as the room quaked with a serious threat of caving in on me.

Streams of natural light broke through falling debris. Silhouettes of rushing men entered the room.

Something went _woosh_ past my ears.

I felt stinging pain to the side of my neck to render me unconscious, again.

_”Are you still sleeping?”_ A kind voice echoed about my ears.

I blinked in an elegant image of rice paper walls intricately painted with red and white cherry blossom flowers.

“Ugh.” I involuntarily let out; the walls swam around me as I sat up.

“Hey, easy. Rest a little to give your body time to readjust,” said the kind voice again.

Firm hands assisted me into a sitting position. I saw I had been lying on a futon in a small room lined with tatami mats.

A subdued light was cast around the walls like a paper lantern. An intricately designed night table of bronze material was the only other piece of furniture in the room.

“Very lucky my masters had discovered you when they did. That juxtapositioner’s lair was trapping human prey.”

“Huh? Ju-ta what lair?” I mumbled, still feeling out of it.

“Or could it be that it wasn’t satisfied with its trappings?” The voice mused.

“Um, where am I?” I gasped when I saw a man with a mouse’s head kneeling before me.

I say man but that wasn’t quite right. His skin shone with a metallic bronze tone, not a strand of fur was in sight. One eye was covered with what appeared to be a leather monocle patch. The other eye was an iron cog with a diamond in the center. He wore a no collar, full body uniform of lucky red and dragon gold cloth.

The corner of my eye caught a swift shadow that went flying for the mouse-man’s monocle eye.

“Ugh! What is this demon?!” The mouse-man cried out, his arms flailing randomly about the air to throw off the eight-legged insect.

_”You hurt Freend. Me protect Freend.”_ An innocent and deep voice spoke in my mind. It felt familiar and reassuring.

“Small Cap!” I called out to the great huntsman.

“It’s okay Small Cap. I think he doesn’t mean any harm.” I beckoned for him to come to me.

“Yes, yes, as the boy says, I mean you both no harm. ” The mouse-man threw up his hands with a surrender.

Small Cap eased himself off the eye and scurried up to my shoulder.

“I’m so glad to see you.” I gently patted the top of his head with the tip of my finger.

“Wait! Did you say that you were going to protect Freend?” I looked to Small Cap.

_”Freend me protect.”_ The deep voice confirmed in my mind.

“Woah! Is this for real?” I almost fell backwards. “You spoke Small Cap?”

“Aah, of course, being trapped within the juxtapositioner’s lair has drawn out your ability to communicate through shared telepathy. A rather common side effect of that demon’s power,” informed the mouse-man.

“Wait one minute! Lemme get this straight.” I sat upright. “You’re saying Small Cap and I were trapped in a demon’s lair that gave us the power to talk to each other?”

“Quite.” The mouse-man’s bronze lips lifted with a smile. Fine silver whiskers twitched animatedly.

“I am Forneas. An animachine built to care for the human race. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He introduced himself with a cordial bow.

“Okay,” I responded, still unsure of everything.

Nevertheless, I decided to trust his word on meaning no harm. He was kind and I was alive. Yet where the hell was I? The place felt foreign and bizarre.

My thoughts scrambled back to the last memories of my brothers. They lingered on Pesti’s crying face.

“Pesti! My brothers! Please tell me you know where they are?!” I erratically begged Forneas.

“Ouch!” I winced, calmed down by the stinging slap to my cheek.

“Sorry young human. I detected elevated hysteria from your biorhythms. My data recommended the slap treatment to the cheek,” Forneas explained with an inappropriately cheerful voice.

“You really aren’t human.” I deduced of his make-up.

“Of course.” Forneas seemed proud of the fact.

“Why a mouse head?”

“All humans like cute creatures do they not?” he replied matter-of-factually.

I could hardly argue with that askew logic, so shrugged off the answer and returned my focus to the important fact that I was in a strange room with a mouse-man-machine identified as Forneas.

The persistent mental imagery of my home being burnt down made my stomach churn and head droop with sorrow.

My home being ransacked and destroyed felt like a nightmare. I didn’t want it to be real. Every time I denied the images as fact, my heart throbbed painfully against my chest.

“It can’t be.” Tears poured down my cheeks as I remembered the last time I had seen Bulldog alive.

“My family.” My voice trembled through my tears.

_”We together Freend.”_ Small Cap’s voice was considerate but also sad.

“WHY!?” I sobbed pitifully, punching my outrage into the tatami mats to make my knuckles bleed.

“Grieve as much as you want boy and small creature.” Forneas tenderly stroked my heaving back.

I released all my emotions until I had exhausted myself.

Forneas carefully bandaged my bloody hands and cleaned the mess I had made on the mats.

Not sure how much time had lapsed when I heard the door open and a real man had entered the room.

My eyes feasted on the splendour of a military officer sporting a stiff navy-blue peaked cap (with a band of gold laurel running along the short brim and a gold star for a centerpiece) and dandy double-breasted jacket of the same colour, which had shiny gold buttons and polished silver clasps running down the middle of his torso. His long legs were neatly presented in crisp navy-blue slacks tucked firmly into polished calf-length black boots. White-gloved hands rested close to the sheathed longsword dangling against his hip. I found myself swooning from the sweet aroma of vanilla and citrus coming off his body. His tight, striking image of austerity was highly alluring.

His stern grey eyes were fixed on Small Cap perched to my shoulder.

“That is a spider.” His deep voice kept a level tone.

“Quite, Master Leinard.” Forneas chipped in.

“It’s alive.”

I thought I heard a slight tremor behind the man’s voice.

Forneas adjusted the cog ring around his diamond eye, which activated a small stream of blue light. Small Cap stumbled backwards with fright when the light ran up and down his body. Forneas turned it off by readjusting the cog ring again.

“According to data retrieved from the scans. It’s a rare Delena Cancerides of the Sparassidae species commonly referred to as the Great Huntsman. This one is of the male kind. The species was last seen in the Tempra desert regions, thought to be extinct due to climate changes, mass exterminations and bird preying over many years,” Forneas explained, matter-of-factually.

“That extinct species is perched on this boy’s shoulder,” the man commented.

His tone of voice hadn’t changed but the gulping movements of his Adam’s apple gave me an impression that the sight of Small Cap made him uncomfortable.

Detecting the man’s discomfort, Small Cap scurried into my pocket as fast as a blink of an eye.

“As you can see, Master Leinard, it is a fast creature. Add to the fact that it is also a stealthy night predator. The Wu King Martial Arts are known to have incorporated this creature’s attack strategies.” Forneas continued, oblivious to his master’s disinterest on the matter.

“Forneas. Why’re they here?” Leinard was straight to the point.

“Oh, we have yet to establish this conversation. He was rescued from that juxtapositioner demon, Master Trix’s men had been tracking in the South Wing.”

Forneas’s answer caused the man to pause for words.

“South Wing you say. ” His face lapsed into a pensive expression as he mulled over the fact further.

He eventually resumed the conversation.

“Boy, your name,” Leinard calmly ordered.

“My name is Famine sir,” I answered.

I decided to tell him the truth. I figured there was no point in holding back on information that may help me learn of my brothers’ whereabouts.

I explained how I was knocked unconscious by some tree-men in black suits and woke up in a shiny blue room with a court jester.

“Forneas tells me the court jester was a demon. I’ve still no idea where I am. I want to know where my brothers are.”

“How many more of you?” Leinard frowned.

“Um, three. We were separated when my home was on fire. It’s hard to explain. I can only say that for some reason I found myself running for my life, knocked out cold and waking up here.”

“And home is where?” Leinard’s eyes narrowed with caution.

“Gat Shiem,” I cordially answered, holding back the tears that threatened to resurface as my thoughts went to my brothers’ faces.

“Please, my brothers, if I described them to you could tell me if you’ve seen them?” I asked the man.

Leinard paused for thought before prompting me to carry on.

I described my brothers’ appearances with as much detail and waited for the man’s response.

A heavy silence hung about the air before he spoke with another question.

“You say Gat Shiem was on fire? Who set it alight?” His frown deepened.

“I don’t know. It happened so fast,” I bravely answered.

The gathering tears were stinging my eyes as I remembered more of that fateful night.

Sensing my rising emotions, the man changed the subject by formally introducing himself.

“I am Lieutenant Colonel Leinard Aueralius of the Evadale Knight Order. Did Forneas explain of your whereabouts?”

I shook my head.

Forneas was prompted to explain the geography of where I was positioned.

Leinard’s men had discovered us during their patrols of a place referred to as Hell’s Labyrinth due to its many red-brick and obsidian stone wall barriers, which formed interlinking corridors of cell pockets and lairs.

The cells and lairs contained wayward demons and the ill-favoured humankind.

Forneas expanded his explanation.

I learned that I was in a city called Apocalypse and a part of the city called the Second District, which was populated predominately with various army, mercenary and town security factions.

“The cityin its entiretyis an expansive fortress for approximately fifty thousand people spread out across the four-layered districts that make it up.”

He rambled on about how the city was purposely populated by invitation from an underworld organisation called the Illuminate Group. It wasn’t possible to leave the city without the permission from this group.

I frowned, wondering if this group had carried me into the city.

“So, it’s likely that someone in this, er, Illuminate Group, brought me here.”

“If so, this is a problem.” Leinard interrupted.

“Why?” I blurted.

Leinard’s eyes narrowed. He whispered something into Forneas’s ears before turning to take his leave.

“Forneas will be in your care Famine of Gat Shiem. He will cater for any of your baser necessities.”

“By your command Master Leinard.” Forneas acknowledged his master’s orders with a formal bow.

Leinard left the room.

“Forneas, that man and this place,” I asked hoping to gather more information.

“As per previous explanations, Master Leinard is our lieutenant colonel of the Evadale Knight Order who is tasked with the security detail and duties of Hell’s Labyrinth, Apocalypse’s maximum-security prison for demons and human prisoners,” Forneas explained.

“What is Apocalypse’s purpose?” I frowned.

Forneas took his time to arrive to an answer.

“Originally a mining city. It has become the seat of power for the Illuminate Group working in lieu of the Armia Dukedom. A lot of wealthy patrons and curious magis have accepted an invitation with promise of acquiring the zirconia stone once mined here.”

I pressed my hand to my chest to contain the twang of pain I felt in my heart. The place I found myself in was a far cry from the monastery home I loved.

“I am sure all this information and experiences have tired you.” Forneas changed the subject.

A tantalising scent of what seemed like cinnamon wafted up my nose. I suddenly felt fatigued.

“No, I’m… fi…” I slurred with droopy eyes. “What have…?”

My voice trailed off as my eyes fluttered to a close. I drifted into a deep sleep.

Remaining in a state of grief wasn’t going to help me find my brothers. I convinced myself of this mindset.

_”Why yah fear?”_ Bulldog had once asked me during one of our Zen training sessions.

Back then I had no answer. Now I understood what he was trying to teach me. Fear pushed my determination to find my brothers. Hope gave me a belief that they were unharmed. These feelings balanced each other with a purpose. Right now, it was prudent learning as much of the place I had been thrown into. So far luck was on my side.

I noticed there was an inner wall partition near the night table, which masked the view of the attached bathing alcove. The alcove had enough space to fit a one-man square shaped tub and a strange U-shaped seat with a funnel hole. I learned that the seat was called a Washlet Basin.

“According to Master Trix’s definition, ‘it’s a throne to relieve one’s load.’ I believe the proper term is human excretion device.” Forneas had crudely answered my question in regard to it.

When the basin’s iron side handle was cranked and released, spurts of water sprayed upwards to clean out the embarrassing body region. Crank the handle a second time, spurts of warm air and a lemon scent was released to dry down the area.

All good and well, but Forneas failed to mention what happened when the handle was cranked too much and released too fast.

“Forneeaas!” I screamed when a geyser of hot air threw me through the rice paper wall partition.

I landed on the other side of the room with my naked butt in the air and face squashed to the ground. A compromising position no decent human being should ever experience.

“Oh, yes, that tends to happen from time to time.” Forneas had nonchalantly excused the incident.

“Ha!” I grumpily exhaled, blowing off annoying strands of fringe that had strayed into my eyes.

I stumbled to my feet and reclaimed my decency, feeling relieved that the only ones to witness my contorted body pose was a machine and a spider.

Either way, I was able to perform my ablution and say my prayers despite the conditions and my mixed feelings of anal violation.

Forneas never left the room. I didn’t receive other visitors after Leinard’s pop in. I figured that the care I received was subject to my level of threat.

I accepted the perks offered whilst I mulled over an escape plan and means to search for my brothers. The animachine brought in meals according to my preferences. Small Cap was given free rein of the room. Forneas offered him bugs and invertebrate suited his taste. Our happy bellies made it difficult to find the motivation to leave.

It was during one of my meal sittings that an odd bird of a man had dropped into the room from the ceiling and messed up my dinner.

“Gaah!” I cursed bitterly when my choice pieces of spring onion dumplings went flying all over the place and sauces were splayed across the ground.

I saw a pulchritude face of a man I haphazardly guessed to be around Death’s age.

A bronze monocle patch was strapped over his natural right eye. As I peered closer, I noticed the lens refracted colours as a kaleidoscope would when moved about.

I yelped when his natural left eye flicked open, his blue eyeball moved up and down as if it was performing a scan on my face like Forneas’s eye had done on Small Cap.

“Woah, a pretty angel!” The man piped up.

His large white-gloved hands cupped the sides of my head and forced my lips onto his.

I struggled in vain to free myself from our lip-lock, feeling weakened from the warmth and forcefulness his lips pressed to mine. I panicked when the tip of his tongue probed for an entry point into my mouth.

My eyes caught sight of the small body that had landed on his head.

I was released when the man’s arms flailed about the air, struggling against Small Caps eight-legged assault that messed up tufts of his short brown hair.

I shuffled to a safer position behind Forneas, vigorously wiped at my mouth and threw every bit of remaining drink down my throat to cleanse away germs that man would have given me.

When I had sanitised enough, I saw that Small Cap had been shaken off to the ground and stretched out with exhaustion.

The man was also panting for breath against the busted partition.

“So that’s the spider Leinard was muttering about,” he chuckled when he had recovered his breath. “Pretty brutal attack for a small pest.”

I frowned.

He pushed himself up off the floor and stood before me, picking off bits of my meal from his dark patchwork overcoat unfastened to reveal his white cotton shirt beneath a buttoned-up navy blue vest and matching blue tie with a gold star symbol at its center.

I saw the largeness of his hands when they dusted off the remaining food debris from his navy-blue pants tucked into calf-length black boots. His long legs carried shape and promise of sinew strength.

“Sturdy like a racehorse,” I blurted and blushed when I had realised what came out of my mouth.

He picked up the coils of rope and a belt of finger-size tube metal shells from the floor, removed his overcoat and began fitting them over his chest, so they were crisscrossed against his vest.

My eyes wandered over the outline of his body, which hinted at athleticism. They loitered around the tanned purpose beltwith attached pouchto his waist and the strangely shaped holster strapped around his right thigh.

“You can keep checking me out. I don’t mind.” He smirked, standing tall, so I saw him in full glory.

“I would never!” I averted his gaze.

Forneas surprised me when he welcomed the intruder warmly by name.

“Oh, Master Trix. I was expecting you to drop in later. I would have laid another plate.” He skilfully cleared away the mess on the square meal mat that was in lieu of a table.

“Drop in? More like crashed in. Just look at the hole in the ceiling.” I pointed upwards to draw everyone’s attention to the gaping hole above us.

“If you were intending to hold me prisoner, you need to rethink your cell design,” I complained and received laughter from the man Forneas had called Trix.

“An angel with an attitude, ” Trix commented.

He fiddled with his monocle until he was satisfied it was on properly.

“Call me Trix, Ohime-sama. I’m at your disposal.” He surprised me with a genuflection and tender kiss to the back of my hand.

I responded with a reflective backhanded slap to his face. It wasn’t enough to shake off the creeps I felt running up my arm.

“Gaah! You’re one of those perverts Death warned me of aren’t you?”

“Master Trix is the Map of Hell’s Labyrinth. It would be impossible for our knights to find their way around the place without him, ” Forneas answered.

“Map?” I frowned, perplexed on how this perverted man before me could be a map.

Trix faced me with a sober expression. I noticed his uncanny likeness to the man called Leinard for the first time.

“Down to brass tacks. Forneas.” Trix clicked his fingers to stir Forneas into action.

The animachine rummaged around the insides of the night table drawer and returned with a big box that he placed before me. He opened the box to reveal clothes. I gawked at the pile.

“Dumping your laundry on me?” I looked to Trix.

“Call it a welcome gift,” Trix declared. “Who knows how long that tunic you’re wearing will last before it drops off. Although I wouldn’t find it a displeasure, to see you running around in your birthday suit.”

I cringed at his tacky words and gingerly touched the cloth.

The white butterfly collar blouse felt smooth and fluid. The gentleman’s navy-blue vest was unexpectedly light even with the middle row of pure brass buttons joining the flaps together.

I unboxed a pair of crease-free tanned cotton pants, suspenders, a dark double-belt pouch, grey flat cap and open finger gloves. The red bow tie next to the cap had intrigued me the most. I had only seen great scholars wear these in Bulldog’s newspaper books.

“I’m sure I’ll be smarter if I wore this,” I blurted with glee, holding out the bow tie before me.

“Unlikely,” Forneas flatly answered.

“Mean!” I pouted, figuring out on how I should dress in the outfit.

“How long you’re going to sit there?” Trix suggestively smirked. “Hurry up and undress.”

An unpleasant vibe ran down my spine. Small Cap scrambled up my arm to stand guard on my shoulder.

_”Not worry Freend. I bite big two-leg’s face if he causes trouble.”_ He reassured me.

I peered at Trix’s face, wondering what he was thinking.

He was, as Death would describe such a man, handsome. His unseemly behaviour was a major turn off. Who the hell kisses a stranger upon first sight?

“You’re not implying I undress before you?” I frowned.

“Embarrassed? No need to be, we’re both men.” His form of reassurance achieved the opposite result.

“I think not!” I nervously snapped.

My heart thumped wildly against my chest when Trix approached the box of clothes. The potent scent of vanilla and citrus from his body made me feel off balanced. He pulled out the shirt and laid it against my back. I was too petrified to move away.

Small Cap raised his legs and swiped at the pervert’s face.

I yelped when his small body flew across the room from the back-hand hit Trix had given in retaliation. He landed to the ground unconscious.

“Small Cap! You bastard!” I spat at Trix.

It didn’t faze him. He held my arms down and pulled me to his body.

“Now that the critter is dealt with, I’ll help you undress.” His hot breath heated the back of my ears.

My cheeks became flushed by his presence.

“Please stop.” I whimpered.

Obscured images flooded my mind. I felt my will was slipping away.

“Master Trix!” Forneas knocked Trix off me.

My senses had recovered along with the will to move. I shuffled away from the man who was shaking his head out of a daze.

“H-Hey! Whada Sol? B-Back off you p-pervert!” I stammered my threat and shuffled to where Small Cap was.

My mind scrambled for an escape but failed. I couldn’t think straight in this dangerous situation. The ground quaked beneath us, adding to my escalating discomfort.

Running boots and curt yelling approached the room.

Two boys about my age, wearing glasses and donning the same uniform as Trixminus the ropesstormed into view.

“Report,” Trix ordered the intruders.

“We have a problem,” stated the boy wearing thick framed glasses.

He stared at me for some time before speaking again. “Strange prisoner.”

“Unexpected intruder, carry on.” Trix corrected the boy.

The other boy pushed his round framed glasses up the flat bridge of his button nose.

“The skrit in the West Wing gone berserk. They’re attacking any knight and prisoner they come across,” he soberly reported.

I was surprised by the serious frown creasing Trix’s forehead. His mannerisms to the other boys contrasted the treatment he gave me. Was his perverseness a way of testing character?

“How many knights are stationed?” he coolly asked.

“Four squads. Colonel had Colin’s team come in from the field to help. I don’t know how much longer they can hold out,” said the round-glasses boy.

He noticed me for the first time.

“Captain, you don’t think…” His voice trailed off.

Fierce tremors shook the walls.

A gust of icy wind chilled my face. A group of hairless and eyeless tree-men in black suits barged into the room.

It was them; the ones responsible for my misery. The rage I felt for revenge replaced every other emotion in my heart.

“Bastards!” I lurched for them with fists raised, ignoring the warnings from the other men.

A tree-man grabbed my arms, raised me to the air then slammed me to the ground with brute force.

“Ugh!” I cried out from the jarring pain I felt to my back.

High pitch shrieking attacked my eardrums. It was silenced by a wave of blue light.

“Stay down!” The round-glasses boy shouted at me.

He pulled out an iron marble from his coat pocket and threw it at the tree-man.

I shuddered at the shrilling noise the ball made in the air before it pierced the tree-man’s chest like tissue paper.

The demon burned with white light; its body was sucked inwards. A light shower of glitter replaced the creature.

“What?!” I gasped.

The room became an overwhelming din of shrills and high-pitched shrieks. My rage changed to fear as I was unable to move a muscle from the deafening noise jabbing at my eardrums.

_”Eguzkiaren argia, sua deitzen dut!”_ Trix bellowed.

Fire balls formed in the air to hit the tree-men. The ones before us shrieked and writhed with pain before transforming into free-falling ash or glitter

Tree-men reinforcements entered and faced the same drastic fate. Where one fell, another entered to take its place.

The noise intensified, air crackled and became hot.

“Aargh!” I cursed as I struggled to free my ankle from the clutches of a tree-man.

Swooping sounds blew across my ears. I was momentarily disoriented by a series of white flashes. My vision cleared to the sight of the tree-man’s hands crumbling to ash.

I relished the short-lived relief to my ears.

A couple more knights entered the room to aid the fight.

“Get him out of here!” I heard Leinard shout out his order from behind them.

He skilfully hacked his way inside with a pair of daggers.

Small Cap was still unconscious near Leinard’s boots. I scooped him up and into my pocket before he could be stomped on.

My countenance paled at the sight of three tiers of jagged teeth bared before me.

“Buddha protect me,” I panted.

The tree-man shrieked before it imploded into a glitter shower.

The atmosphere became unbearable; it was hard to breathe, see anything. I was too fatigued to move.

“Goddamn useless weakling,” I mumbled my self-loathing. My eyes drooped heavily.

Hands pulled me up. I groaned in Trix’s arms as he carried me out of the lantern room.

A thumping pain to my temples forced my mind into unconscious.