 
# **Contents**

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

PROCESSED GOODS

FRAGMENTS OF FORTUNE

THE RUNE EATERS

MIDNIGHT OIL

THE GOLDEN SPIRAL

BLEACH WHITE

BORROWED INSPIRATION

SHIELD WALLS & SPEAR WIVES

LACTATING CONTEST

CONCEALED AMBITION

THE INVESTIGATION

SOUR REUNION

THE CAGED BIRD

THE SKILLED PLAGIARIST

THE CHOSEN SCRIBE

FRAGMENT CHILD

BIG BANG

CHUPACABRA

RUNE EGGS

EPILOGUE

Like What You Read
**THE SHACKLED SCRIBES**

**By Lars Teeney**

**Cover Illustration by Zhivko Zhelev**

****

**Other Books by Lars Teeney**

New Megiddo Rising: An Apostates Novella

The Apostates Book One

The Apostates Book Two: Remnants

The Apostates Book Three: Lake of Fire

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Published by Xcism Press

Copyright © 2016 Lars Teeney and Xcism Press

_All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, digital, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or conveyed via the internet or a website without prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Some characters in this book are based on historical figures. Most characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental._

ASIN: B01KDG6OKA

ISBN: 1537246305

ISBN-13: 978-1537246307

_To independent authors who go through great lengths to get noticed_

_PROCESSED GOODS_

As the gears turned and the belt rotated, the grim caravan of carcasses was moved along the line. Tialina Syntroniphus tried to catch her breath between corpses, as she struggled to keep up on the production line. She held her suction hose at the ready. The body of a Fern Louse, which was suspended by the neck, was thrust in front of her station, and then she sprang into action. She plunged the nozzle of the suction hose into the chest cavity of the Fern Louse. The serrated teeth bit into flesh and bone to reach the soft tissue below.

Tialina never quite could get used to the sight of the Fern Louse body being emptied of its contents by the hose, shriveling like some dried fruit as the hose stole the internal organs and muscle tissue in a matter of seconds. She cringed, but continued her duties. When there was nothing left but an empty bag of skin and bones, Tialina flipped the compressor power off. She withdrew the gore-covered nozzle from the carcass and had only seconds to wash the nozzle in the rinse basin and to check for any blockage in the hose, then, the process was repeated beyond count.

Tialina had never quite understood the popularity of Fern Lice meat, after all, it had no distinct taste. As far back as she could remember, that was all her Mating Pair had fed her from the time of her hatching from the Rune Egg. Tialina wondered if there was any other alternative to the consumption of Fern Lice for the Broxanians. The Olgoikhorkian Masters had always proclaimed that Fern Lice had been their species' primary food source since before the Broxanians had been raised up from jungle fowl to their elevated status in the civilized world. She had read a forbidden scroll on Fern Louse behavior when she was younger. The white, furry creatures swung through the jungle ferns with perfect dexterity, and hung from their tails while sleeping. She had always been horrified that Broxanians consumed Fern Lice for food, but as she got older, Tialina was desensitized to such notions.

Tialina's musings were interrupted by another Louse corpse presented in front of her for processing. She fumbled with the hose and it dropped to the platform surface.

"Tialina! That will cost you a half vial of Ichor! You're slowing down the production line. Get your act together!" the foreman bellowed from across the production floor.

"Yeah, yeah! I'm on it!" Tialina cried back. She brushed some loose, white fur from her beak-snout, and then picked the suction hose up to resume her work. Soon, another Fern Louse carcass had been processed, and its hide and bones were conveyed down the line for use in the production of clothing, rugs, and adhesives.

Tialina lost herself in thought of her Rune Scribing ventures. It helped her escape the tediousness of the job, and staved off depression.

_This rune configuration will be my ticket out of this dung hole,_ she vowed to herself, as the wet, slurping sound the suction hose gave off was interrupted by a sudden blockage in the hose.

_For the love of the Firebird! The Louse ribs have blocked my hose again. That's going to cost me a vial of Ichor,_ she fretted.

"Tialina! What's the hold up?" the foreman yelled, as he lumbered over to her workstation. It was going to be a long shift in the Louse Processing Plant.

༅༅༅

Tialina caught a rickshaw pulled by a team of Ichor Imps, back to the Broxanian quarter of Futharkia, the only city Tialina had ever known. She watched the four scale-covered beasts sprint forward, flapping their stunted wings which were too small for flight. The Imps also carried a tank filled with Ichor that was fed to them via a hose connected to the facemasks each Imp wore. The Ichor Imps could not function without the steady supply of the eldritch fluid coursing through their veins.

_All I can smell right now is Louse carcass, and that bloody foreman will be the death of me,_ Tialina complained to herself.

"Hey, lady, what's your coop number again?" one of the Ichor Imps hissed.

"Thirteen. There on the left," Tialina said, gesturing to the rickety coops stacked atop one another. The Ichor Imp mumbled something under its breath and then the team of imps pulled the rickshaw off to the curb. Tialina opened a vial of Ichor and poured its contents into a tank attached to the rickshaw frame and then got out. The Ichor was payment for services rendered. The Imps trotted off with the squeaky rickshaw in tow. Tialina hurried up the rusted, metal landing to reach the front door of her coop.

She looked toward a carved symbol situated on the surface of her door. The curious symbol had a structure composed of wedge-shaped and sharp end-caps that looked as if they could cut if touched. Tialina placed her taloned, four-digit hand against the runic symbol that had been embossed into the center of the door. The rune glowed with ethereal beauty, and then the door unlatched. She pushed the door open the rest of the way with a low, creaking noise.

Tialina put her hand to a second rune situated on the wall that shined brightly at her touch, which illuminated the interior of her one-room coop. Years of wear and tear had chiseled away vast swathes of varnish from the floor planks. Most of her furnishings were weathered and scarred as time took its toll. The one piece of furniture that had been kept in meticulous shape was the multiple-tiered, polished fernwood desk that featured gilded inlay of mud moth ivory. The top of the desk was covered with a pile of clay tablets and containers filled with odd tools of various lengths. Above the working surface of the desk was an oval mirror fixed in place with a frame, flanked by shelves.

Tialina gazed at her reflection in the mirror. She traced the lines of the hardy flesh around her large, neon green eyes to the smooth, lacquer-like surface of her short beak-snout. The narrow, white feathers that ringed her face were well groomed and bright. Tialina wore the standard-issue collar for Broxanians, which featured the wearer's runic name displayed on it. She looked down on her clay and collection of styluses, and soon she felt the urge to get to work.

_I will work for as long as it takes to create a rune configuration of consequence, even if it costs me my job,_ she thought. Tialina threw her work uniform on the floor behind her chair and then she settled in at her desk. She fingered her collection of styluses and searched for just the right one. Even though Tialina owned a variety, she always seemed to want to use the same stylus. Tialina picked up the ebony and golden-tipped stylus, rolling it between her talons. Finally, she reached over for a clay tablet that was warm to the touch, and placed it on the desk in front of her. _Cosmic Clay, thought to have descended from a comet to an ancient world that us Broxanians used to inhabit. At least that is what I had read in some banned scrolls._ Tialina recounted to herself. Heat emanated from the clay tablet.

Tialina leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes, while in her mind's eye she visualized a complex rune configuration that seemed to be on fire. The rune illuminated the dark corners of her mind. Suddenly, her eyes sprang open and she was ready to begin scribing. She pushed the golden tip of the stylus into the malleable clay. With each careful push and pull, she rendered the first bar. She hunched down close toward the clay to gage the symmetry of her work. Tialina began to labor on an adjacent cross bar, shaving away fine pieces of clay and casting them into a small pile.

Hours passed as she toiled away, engrossed in her rune project. She had the perfect image in her head and she would not rest until she had transposed it perfectly into the clay.

༅༅༅

An entire solar and lunar rotation had passed before Tialina had finally finished her rune configuration. She felt like she had been on an Ichor bender due to lack of sleep. She wanted to shower but her she couldn't summon the will to move from her chair. She nodded off several times, but then the realization that she had skipped the previous day's work jarred her awake.

_That job can squeeze a rune egg from its rear end!_ she thought. Tialina got up and stretched, then looked down upon the rune that she had scribed into the clay.

_Did I actually make that?_ Tialina surprised herself at the intricacy of the rune. She had been in a trance-like state as she worked the night before.

_Now is the time to check the quality of my work,_ Tialina outstretched her hand and held it over the rune configuration on the clay tablet. Almost immediately, it began to glow with a low intensity. Tialina was pleased that the activation process started well. But then, the tablet vibrated and rattled the tools resting on it. A faint hum could be heard throughout her coop that increased in volume, tone, and pitch as the seconds passed. The noise and the light became overwhelming and her whole coop quaked. Ornaments and scrolls plummeted from shelves, crashing to the floor. The entire neighborhood shook violently now.

_The power being released from this room will destroy Futharkia City if I don't shut it down!_ Tialina pulled herself upright but stumbled as she was rocked to and fro. She fell and crawled desperately to her desk while small bits of debris landed around her. Finally, she reached the clay tablet that the rune was carved into, held her hand up, and concentrated to extinguish the raw power that emanated from it. Nothing was happening and Tialina began to doubt that she could contain this rune, but then the light and shaking died down. Tialina felt a wave of relief wash over her as the intense quake subsided.

Tialina rose to her feet and stood over the rune on her desk, staring down at it in deep contemplation. She snapped out of her thoughts when she heard commotion outside. She rushed to her coop's terrace through two battered, slatted metal doors. When she reached the rusted and corroded wrought iron guardrail, she took in the spectacle below. There were bewildered Broxanians scrambling about and shouting in terror and anger. Some inspected the exterior of their coops where potted plants had been overturned and windows shattered. Some of the Broxanians had been wounded by fallen debris, while others were just terrified by the quake.

_Looks like I caused a little disturbance,_ Tialina chuckled to herself. She walked back into her coop and secured the metal doors. All the activity had drained her and she felt the need for sleep. She settled into the circular nest that she had constructed herself from organic fibers harvested from plants she grew on her balcony, whereas most Broxanians bought nests made from the fur of Fern Lice. When she was comfortable, sleep overtook her.

༅༅༅

Tialina's peaceful slumber was violently interrupted when she heard the deafening crash. She shot upright and caught sight of the source of the disturbance. A red, glowing rune was affixed to the bulbous head of the mammoth figure. Its skin was yellowish-brown, and was pockmarked with impressions and the scraping of serrated tools. Except for the ambiguous shape of a humanoid, the body and head of the titan possessed no other distinguishing features.

The creature took one long, panning look at the interior of the coop. It seemed to search for something but she did not understand what. Then, the behemoth fixated on her desk.

_It's going for my rune!_ she thought. The monster lumbered slowly toward her desk. Tialina darted over to the desk and swiped the clay rune tablet just as the monster tried to snatch it, then she paced backward and bumped into the metal doors leading to the balcony. The red rune-faced giant drew near. Tialina unlatched the doors and spilled out onto the balcony, falling on her backside to keep the clay tablet safe. She shuffled backward and hit the guardrail. The creature reached down for her. Tialina could see more detail now, and she realized the figure was composed of the same cosmic clay as her tablet.

_A Rune Golem!_ she thought. Tialina had read about the Olgoikhorkians commissioning famously skilled rune-scribes to produce these automatons, but she thought it was just Master propaganda. Just as the creature was about to grab her, she rolled out of the way. Tialina looked over the edge of the balcony, took one glance back at the Rune Golem, and then she jumped.

_FRAGMENTS OF FORTUNE_

The intense tremor had knocked framed pictures off the wall and rattled tools. He was thoroughly roused from his slumber. He shot upright too fast and a jolt was sent down his spine, a reminder of his age. Cyesko Limariar reached for his magnifying spectacles and placed them upon his beak, and then stumbled to his feet.

"By Stymphalides! What is the meaning of this racket? My coop!" Cyesko muttered as he took stock of the damage done to the interior. He paced about his single-room coop, distraught over the mess that he would have to clean up.

"What could have caused such a quake?" Cyesko asked aloud. He decided he would get ready to go about the business of the day. He pulled his nightshirt up over his head and looked at himself in the mirror on the wall. The years had not been kind to his white feather-covered frame. The muscles of his midsection were ill-defined, and he needed to walk with the help of a cane.

Cyesko hobbled to a dark wood armoire, and opened its doors. Inside, he gazed upon his wardrobe. The musty smell of the old garments reminded him that he needed to purchase new clothing, although his meager amount of Ichor on hand made this prospect a low priority. He pulled a roughly-spun, gray tunic that had been made from Fern Louse fur from the armoire and donned it. He tightened the drawstrings near the collar. Cyesko reached for a conical, short-brimmed hat that was emblazoned with his runic name in gold embossing on the front, placing it atop his head.

_For the love of Louse puss, what kind of rune will I be able to come up with today? With each solar rotation that passes, it becomes more difficult for me to compose rune configurations. I need to pull off—something—anything for my Ichor compensation,_ Cyesko thought. He sunk into his chair like a sack of Fern Louse flour, and let out an exasperated sigh. He lifted his stylus that seemed to weigh as much as an uncut block of cosmic clay, and he put tip to tablet. With much apprehension, he pressed the wedge-shaped tip into the soft clay. With clumsy strokes, he fashioned a crude rune form.

_There's still half a vial of Ichor I could drink. Just leave this rune for later—yes. Wait, that is the last of my Ichor until I finish this one._ His Ichor addiction scratched at the walls of his mind. Cyesko squinted as if to physically force himself to concentrate, then he caught the reflection of his own avian pupils in the tip of his stylus; behind his arcane spectacles, they seemed to be tired, and the emerald green color of his youth had faded to a dull shade.

_I am not spent. I have plenty of talent left and I will make a great rune configuration,_ Cyesko vowed. The stylus's tip bit into the clay with vigorous strokes. It mutilated the clay as if a Mud Moth was brutalizing its prey with a single tusk. Cyesko's bitterness had fueled his drive for another lunar rotation.

༅༅༅

Hours of work had been poured into the refinement process of the rune configuration. Cyesko removed his arcane spectacles and rubbed his bleary eyes with the back of his hand. He reached for the last of some Fern Louse jerky from out of a jar beside him, and then he tossed the bit in his beak. Cyesko took stock of the rune tablet laid out before him. The quality of the scribing seemed reasonable enough, but there was a hint of asymmetry.

_Damn you, Cyesko, you're losing your touch in your old age,_ he thought. Cyesko held his outspread hand over the rune, to activate its innate energy. After a few seconds, a faint, red glow emanated from the clay tablet.

_Barely enough energy in the rune for half a vial of Ichor,_ Cyesko thought as he frowned in displeasure. He rose out of his chair, reached for a Fern Louse leather shoulder bag, and then dropped the rune tablet into the bag's pouch.

"Time to go pay the Suckler Tribune's Palace a visit," Cyesko muttered, opened the door to his coop, and secured it behind him.

༅༅༅

Cyesko hobbled up the three sets of stone stairs that sloped upwards in front of the palace like a steep hill. He stopped mid-way to catch his breath. He gazed up ahead of him to the black, wrought-iron gate that barred entry to the palace. The gate still seemed so far away.

_Blasted, inaccessible architecture—you'd think someone would have constructed a way for easier access to these structures_. Cyesko struggled onward and soon reached the top. To the left side of the gate was a cone-shaped, Greensteel bell, which featured a rune that was embossed prominently on its outer surface. Cyesko put his hand to the rune as he had done hundreds of times before. A split-second later the rune activated, causing the bell to course with energy, then it rang out. Cyesko then stood back and waited patiently by the wrought-iron gate. After several minutes that seemed to last an eternity, a large, round slab of the front wall of the palace dislodged from the rest, then it rolled to the side to reveal part of the interior.

"Well, look who it is! Me and the boys were wagering whether you'd reach the top of the stairs, old man!" the small creature screeched as it emerged from the opening in the wall. It was about waist high to Cyesko, and its face was covered by a mask with great lenses that appeared similar to compound insect eyes. Attached to the mask was a coiled cable that extended back to a translucent, two-chambered tank strapped to the creature's back, carrying a generous amount of the golden Ichor. Flanking the Ichor tank on either side were two stunted wings covered by a thin membrane of skin, and despite being incapable of flight, the wings flapped anyway with each step.

_Lucky Ichor Imps—they actually breathe Ichor. They must have it to survive, while us Broxanians have to toil our lives away for meager amounts of the liquid_ , he thought. Cyesko seemed to surprise himself with his own bitterness.

"Greetings. I am here to see Melchior as I have—"

"Yeah, yeah! I know why you're here, Cyesko. Stand back so I can open the gate for you," the Imp growled. Cyesko limped back a few paces while the Imp unlocked the gate and swung it outward. Cyesko stepped into the foyer of the palace. The space was unfurnished, but the walls were irregularly shaped like those of caverns deep under the ground. The rock-like walls had been coated with a metallic paint that faintly glowed in the darkened room; the result was an eerie light. Cyesko knew the way to the Ichor Exchequer. He approached an arched window with a cut-out at the bottom. On the other side of the window was another Ichor Imp, but it was slumbering soundly. Cyesko cleared his throat loudly in an attempt to rouse the Imp, to no avail.

Finally, he raised his cane and tapped against the window repeatedly. The Ichor Imp was jolted awake with wide eyes, and his head darted back and forth.

"Hello, Melchior! I am here to exchange a rune for Ichor," Cyesko announced.

"Cyesko, I should have known. How dare you wake me like that. Fine, let's see what you have," Melchior hissed. The Imp straightened his posture atop his absurdly tall stool behind the glass. Cyesko procured the tablet from his leather shoulder bag and shoved it through the hole in the window. The Imp studied the rune tablet intently.

"This rune configuration looks like it's barely worth a quarter of a vial! What kind of dung are you pushing here?" The Imp snorted.

"I assure you this rune will be perfectly suited for the Suckler Magistrate. I spent the entire lunar cycle on it."

"You better not be trying to swindle me, Cyesko. Chingus would have my head."

"Not to worry, I am certain that Chingus will find this rune to his satisfaction,"

"Fine." Melchior reached under the counter he was perched at, rummaging through contents unseen to Cyesko, then, finally he shot back upright.

"Here is your payment, half a vial. Now, leave me be!" Melchior snapped. Cyesko swiped the half-filled vial from the window's hole, and then turned to limp away. When Cyesko had made it back to the foyer, he saw that there were no Ichor Imp guards present.

_Might as well take a stroll around, yeah, that wouldn't hurt._ Cyesko started off down the opposite corridor that seemed to mirror the corridor that led to the Ichor Exchequer window. He found himself at a dead end.

_Figures. I don't know what I was expecting to find here_ , he thought. Cyesko turned to leave when out of the corner of his eye he noticed a window. He approached and pressed his face up against it to see through the fogged-up glass. He could make out obscure forms in the chamber beyond the window. Cyesko used his arcane spectacles to compensate for the condensation on the window, allowing him to see inside more clearly.

Cyesko realized what was happening: The Suckler Magistrate, Chingus, was distributing payment to his Rune-Scribes for services rendered. _They are receiving fresh Ichor directly from the teat. I have never seen Chingus before, what an...interesting creature,_ he thought. __ Cyesko continued to watch as a number of Broxanian scribes were seated beneath a large platform in chairs that leaned back as to position the scribes almost flat on their backs. Each scribe was allocated a large, veiny blue-white gland to suckle Ichor from. The golden liquid flowed freely, spilling to the floor. Resting on top of the raised platform was a huge, blue worm. The creature dwarfed all of the Broxanians present. Its body was long and segmented—but not like an insect—more like rolls of fat tissue. At the bottom of each segment hung a gland filled with the Ichor that the Rune-Scribes suckled from. More grotesque was the fact that each body segment was crowned with a towering bone spur or horn of some sort, white and knobby. Cyesko tried to catch a glimpse of Chingus's face but it was obscured by shadow.

"Hey! What in the name of the World Worm do you think you doing? Spying on Chingus like that! Get!" Melchior screeched. Cyesko was startled and knocked his spectacles against the glass. He caught them from falling at the last second.

"S-sorry! I seemed to have taken a wrong turn," Cyesko said. He started off, making a wide arc around the hissing Ichor Imp.

"I hope you got a good look at how real rune-scribes are treated, Cyesko, 'cuz that will never be you!" Melchior bellowed as Cyesko rushed toward the front gate. _That's what you think, Imp. I will be respected as a scribe,_ he thought. __ He rushed out of the palace front gate with some urgency.

༅༅༅

"I want to hire your rickshaw! Did you hear my...? I say—"

The rickshaw had darted away from the curb before Cyesko could reach it. He stood on the side of the busy thoroughfare, dreading the walk back to the Broxanian quarter. Cyesko started off, looking over his shoulder every few paces in case a stray rickshaw came his way.

_Blasted Ichor Imps, treat us Broxanians like—like second-class citizens. But, we are second-class citizens,_ he thought. __ Cyesko fought the urge to open the vial of Ichor he had just procured. _Easy now, you have to make it last. You have bills to pay, Cyesko,_ he thought. __ Cyesko sped up, as fast as his aged legs would take him. He established a regular rhythm, tapping his cane on the pavement to help him with pacing. He peered at his surroundings in an attempt to hail a rickshaw but none were around. There was, however, a chaotic morass of activity around him. He nearly dove out of the way as a wagon pulled by a team of Ichor Imps, carrying a top-heavy load of cages lumbered past, too close for comfort. When he looked at the cages, he could see they contained squealing Fern Lice. One made eye-contact with Cyesko, it had a bewildered look on its face with mouth agape.

_Poor fellow. Oh well, you will be on my dinner table soon enough,_ he thought. __ Cyesko continued on his journey. He looked up at the distant profile of Broxanian coops, stacked atop one another like so many clay tablets. At this vantage point, it looked as if the coops could tip over at any moment. His avian brethren scurried to and fro, off on various errands to keep Futharkia chugging along. There were clay miners hauling their payloads to industrial kilns, heavily guarded Ichor tankers were being hauled to the vial plant for bottling, and young Broxanian females were being herded to the local Hen House to provide comfort and pleasure for clay miners, Fern Lice butchers, and other working stiffs.

_Maybe I'll turn down this alley. It should be a shortcut to my neighborhood,_ he thought. __ Cyesko turned down a dark and narrow alley. He slowed his pace then and had second thoughts, but walked onward. The stench of rotting food scraps permeated the alley. He continued deeper into the narrow space and up ahead the alley veered off into another direction. Cyesko reached the corner and then suddenly, something slammed into him. He felt the wind knocked out of his lungs and heard a high-pitched shriek. He landed hard on his backside. Cyesko looked up to and his eyes were drawn to a clay tablet that seemed to fly through the air in slow motion.

"No!" yelled the woman Cyesko had collided with. They both watched as the clay tablet descended to the pavement with a crash. It fractured into many small pieces and the woman immediately shot to her feet and rushed over to the broken tablet.

"You dolt! Why don't you watch where you're going? My tablet..." the woman cried while frantically picking up every fragment she could find. Cyesko saw out of the corner of his eye a large fragment had landed near him. _A part of a rune is inscribed on it,_ he thought. __ Cyesko stealthily reached for the clay fragment and dropped it in his shoulder bag.

"Excuse me? You were the one running blindly around the corner. I am just an old man on my way home." Cyesko placed his arm over his shoulder bag and watched the woman intently.

"You—w-where is it? Where is the last fragment?" the woman asked. Her gaze darted around the rubbish piles scattered throughout the alley. Finally, she turned to Cyesko.

"You have it! Give me the last fragment!" she demanded with accusatory eyes.

"What? I don't have whatever you are looking for—"

"It's not here. You must have it! Give it back—"

The violent crash put a halt to the argument. The brick wall on the far side of the alley crumbled into rubble and from the chaos emerged a lumbering giant. Cyesko pushed himself away involuntarily.

"No! Stay away!" the woman screamed at the towering figure that took slow, deliberate steps toward her. The woman shot Cyesko one last look and then she sprinted around the corner at full tilt. The behemoth drew closer and shook the ground with each step. Cyesko could see that its face was a rune configuration that was on fire, and its skin was clay.

_A Rune Golem! They exist!_ He thought. __ Cyesko's excitement drained away as he realized that he would not be able to get to his feet before the Rune Golem was upon him. He began to panic. The Golem lurched toward him, and it stopped in its tracks. The entire upper body of the Golem swiveled to gaze upon Cyesko. His beak chattered with fear and he struggled to keep control of his bowels as the Golem's rune seemed to pierce his very soul. Then, the Rune Golem turned around and continued on its path, seemingly in pursuit of the woman. Cyesko felt the vibrations of the Golem's footsteps dissipate.

Cyesko sat where he had fallen for several more moments, processing what had happened in the alley. _I must get back to my coop to study this fragment_. Cyesko climbed to his feet, picked up his cane, and then hurried off to get home.

༅༅༅

_The craftsmanship is remarkable on this fragment. If only I had the entire rune configuration to study. It must harbor vast power!_ He thought. __ Cyesko turned the fragment in his hand, looking it over repeatedly. He noticed the intricacy of the visible form of the rune, and could hardly believe what he saw. _This woman must be a rune-scribe of the highest order. Could she work for the Lactator-General?_ he thought. __ Cyesko felt a sensation of despair wash over him. He realized that a lifetime of rune-scribing had barely returned any dividends. He was in his twilight years, and survived off of meager amounts of Ichor, while dwelling in _this hovel_.

Cyesko reached for his tools: clay and his collection of styluses. _I will reconstruct this rune if it kills me. I know that I have the skill to recreate it,_ he told himself. Cyesko rolled out some clay into a rough tablet form and he calibrated his arcane spectacles for macro-vision. With renewed vigor he threw himself into his work. After several strokes, he compared his work with that on the rune fragment he attempted to copy.

_Gads! This is not going to be easy. My hand is unsteady in my old age._ Cyesko sighed, but he was determined to not give up. He put stylus to clay and toiled. There would be no sleep for him during this lunar rotation.

_THE RUNE EATERS_

"Make sure that all of my glands are supported by the platform! If one of them gets caught in the wheels again I shall have all your Ichor tanks removed," Chingus bellowed. Its voice was gravelly and high-pitched all at once. The Ichor Imps that were tasked with pulling the specially-built rickshaw that supported Chingus let out a collective, "No!"

"Melchior, make sure your Imps get me to the Lactator-General's palace on time. I hate being late," Chingus commanded.

"Yes, yes, my Magistrate, we will pick up the pace!" Melchior growled orders in some strange, forgotten language that sounded like it had originated from howls of pain. Chingus did not care, it had heard the language being spoken among the Imps for as long as it could remember. _They must fear me enough to do my bidding, that is all that matters_ , Chingus thought.

The trip thus far had been unpleasant for Chingus, which was nothing new to the Olgoikhorkians, who were more accustomed to remaining stationary and feeding. But, when the Lactator-General proclaimed a gathering of the Masters, no Olgoikhorkian could refuse. With such physically small creatures available to transport the Olgoikhorkians from one place to another with such great difficulty, Chingus wondered why they had not already employed Rune Golems for this task. _Oh yes, they are incredibly slow and only a few Broxanians know how to sculpt them,_ Chingus answered its own question.

_It's such a long way from the Lower Descender to the Central Hub of the Futharkia,_ Chingus thought about how the city itself was laid out in a plan that mimicked its runic name. This layout made getting from one end of the city to the other a great burden, but it also meant that the Great Rune Barrier was perpetually powered by the fact that the city was a massive rune configuration.

Being an Olgoikhorkian Master did have its advantages however, for instance all of the traffic along the route to the Lactator-General's palace was required to pull over for Chingus's procession in order to let it pass. Chingus let out a massive sigh as the numerous Ichor Imps struggled to keep the elongated, many-wheeled rickshaw moving at a steady pace.

༅༅༅

Chingus's rickshaw had reached the Central Hub of Futharkia, and by extension, the Palace of Dingus, the Lactator-General and Master of Futharkia. The Ichor Imps pushed, pulled and heaved to bring Chingus's rickshaw to the rear of the colossal palace compound. Chingus looked up to take in the sight of the palace's many twisted spires that reached toward the spiral churning sky, flanking the central dome structure. A long, winding ramp that connected to the rear of the central domed structure of the palace allowed the rickshaw to the entrance, thanks to the laborious efforts of the Ichor Imps.

Chingus could see that many Olgoikhorkian Masters had reached the palace before it did, and so Chingus and its Imps would have to join the queue. Chingus recognized the many other Olgoikhorkians present that waited for admittance into the palace. At the head of the line was Lungus, "The Purple Nurser", who also happened to hold the official title of "Nurser Tribune". Also present was Zingus, The "Secretary Milker", and many other Masters. Chingus seethed with anger and jealousy when it realized that it was the lowest ranking Master in the line. _Come on, let's get on with it. Why does this line take so blasted long?_ Chingus thought.

After much struggle and logistical issues were solved by the Ichor Imps, it was soon Chingus's turn to be wheeled into the palace. A vast arch—stories tall—allowed the Masters to pass through. The interior was as grand as Chingus had remembered, the great hall took up the entirety of the mighty central-domed structure. The dome's ceiling seemed to be miles high overhead and it was painted to mimic the known cosmos. At the very center of the mural was an oculus that had been fitted with a massive, green lens that cast down emerald-tinted light on all present.

Melchior and the other Imps got the platform into Chingus's assigned place in the great hall. Its spot was toward the rear of the hall. Chingus watched intently for the Lactator-General but it had not entered the hall yet. Chingus spied the Lactator-General's household Imps passing, as they distributed minor runes to the guests for consumption.

"I say, Delachior! Over here!" Chingus cried out, "Bring me some appetizers as I am famished!" The Lactator-General's chief Imp reluctantly approached Chingus's platform. He waved for a pair of Imps to wheel over a serving cart. The Imps brought the cart to a hard stop. Chingus gazed upon the cart to inspect the items on order. There were small, round clay tablets bearing simple runes on them, about as small as saucers.

"Hurry up. The other Masters are expecting their fill," Delachior screeched.

"Listen you—imp! Dingus may employ you, but if I feel so much as slighted I can have your corpse added to the Fern Louse pâté. Do you understand?" Chingus said with narrowed, orange glowing eyes. Delachior did not betray any hint of emotion under his chrome and jewel-encrusted Ichor mask. He simply turned his back and continued on his way to distribute appetizer runes. Music started to play and Chingus searched around the great hall for the source. Finally, at the head of the hall Chingus saw a Broxanian four-piece band emerge from a compartment under floor. They stood on a stage that was raised up from the floor by some Ichor Imp-powered machine deep below. The Broxanians played instruments made from derivative Fern Louse products from the processing plant. There was a piper who bellowed high pitched wails from a Fern Louse bladder, and a drummer who beat vigorously on drums composed of Fern Louse bones and stretched hides. There was a Broxanian Hen who sang an ancient ballad from the times when the species had dwelt on the jungle floor, scavenging for mud moth grubs. It did not impress Chingus however, as Dingus always booked the same band for these events.

After suffering a set by the band, they finally ceased playing. In the center of the great hall, another hatch in the floor opened to reveal a compartment. From the void rose Dingus, the Lactator-General of the Olgoikhorkian Masters of Futharkia, and the largest of the Rune-Eaters. Chingus was shocked to see how large Dingus had grown. Dingus's yellowish-green segments of blubber and teats quivered like the mounds of gelatin harvested from Fern Louse bones. The spines protruding from its back stood tall and menacing. The feature that really struck Chingus was how happy Dingus looked with its wide grin that bore all of its mismatched, slab-like teeth. Dingus wore a Greensteel monocle that was rune-powered to auto-focus. The great grinning worm had many heaving and bulging Ichor glands that looked as if they would burst and spew forth sap contained within to flood the hall.

_Dingus is so big! No it can't be..._ Chingus refused to believe what it was thinking. Chingus grasped another small rune tablet from a tray near it, then, focused on the tablet, and soon the clay dissipated into nothingness, and Chingus felt momentarily satisfied with the energy it had absorbed; but no amount of snacking could alleviate the envy of Dingus that Chingus felt.

"Oh my! I am so glad that all of the Masters could join me here in the middle of our glorious city. You might be wondering why I have called you all here. Well, I will get straight to it: I have consumed enough runic energy to fragment. Oh, I feel like I could just burst!" Dingus announced.

The Masters all erupted in cheers, and they were connected in a unified feeling of joy, due to their limited psionic abilities. Chingus tried to fight the forced shared experience, but even it could not drown out the happiness.

"Yes, that is right, I will soon procreate through fragmentation and so we are here to celebrate," Dingus proclaimed. The Masters congratulated the Lactator-General loudly while Chingus cursed the development under its breath. Chingus was enraged but it fought to contain its fury for fear of _mood spots_ forming on its many segments. _This is what I get for employing so many second-rate rune-scribes. Mediocre results. At this rate I will never grow large enough for fragmentation._ Chingus complained to itself.

"I too must offer my sincerest congratulations to you, Lactator-General. You are a true inspiration to all of the Olgoikhorkians who wish to someday fragment," Chingus said.

"You? Fragment? Chingus, Suckler Magistrate of the Lower Descender of Futharkia, with those addict scribes that you have enslaved, you will never grow large enough for fragmentation. Maybe you will learn from Lungus here, who takes its time to select quality rune-scribes? It grows fat and happy!" Dingus said, gesturing over to Lungus, the purple monstrosity, who offered a toothy smile in return.

"We all employ addict runs-scribes, lest we forget. That is the Broxanian nature. To single me out is not fair to—"

"Your time may come, but it is not now. Now, where were we? Oh yes, my imminent fragmentation, a joyous occasion. What better way to celebrate than to announce that I have also dispatched a Rune Golem to pursue the source of that massive quake we had recently. This tells me that there is some untapped source of energy out there. Maybe it is one of the legendary Primordial Runes, that helped shape realms or perhaps it is the mythical 'Chosen Scribe'? Make no mistake, I will find the source," Dingus affirmed.

_No, Chingus, I will find the source first. Your time is nearly at end,_ Chingus thought. __ Chingus struggled to keep its emotions in check. Then, it went back to keeping up appearances of celebrating Dingus's impending fragmentation.

"Masters! May I please have your attention. Now is the time to introduce to you the Rune-Scribes that all Masters and Ichor Imps rely on to keep our system running. First off, please welcome Pernaculus Flembottomus, the most productive rune-scribe working for the Lactator-General, Dingus!" Delachior announced from the bandstand.

The tall, proud, bright white, feather-covered rune-scribe strode out onto the stage and made a slow bow to the assembled Masters. Delachior continued the introductions of Broxanian scribes for some time. Chingus found itself nodding off. But, soon the formalities were over. Attention was given to Dingus once more.

"Olgoikhorkians and Broxanians, oh yes, and Imps, these are the components that make our great society possible. Now, I know all present sacrifice and labor tirelessly for Futharkia, however let no one say that their efforts do not come without rewards! Let the Weaning begin!" Dingus shouted. The Ichor Imps throughout the great hall sprang into action. They wheeled in numerous golden-framed and velvet-embroidered chairs that were brought up to each rune-scribe. The rune-scribe took a seat, and once settled, the Ichor Imps rolled chair and host to their respective Olgoikhorkian Master. Soon every Master was surrounded by rune-scribes that sat, reclining back in their chairs. They were positioned directly under heaving Masters' teats, which dripped forebodingly with golden colostrum.

Chingus groaned with displeasure as its lowly Broxanian rune-scribes were placed under its own anemic glands, seemingly anxious to receive their due. Chingus resigned itself to its duty and concentrated on pumping out the Ichor. The Ichor Imps climbed the platform with their otherworldly agility and pulled upon each purple nipple repeatedly to encourage the Ichor forth. Suddenly, torrents of the sappy fluid were let loose. The Broxanian rune-scribes held their beaks open for their reward. Many Broxanian faces were inundated by the golden flood. The liquid cascaded down on to their faces and then to the floor, with a majority of the Ichor channeled down to collection drains, to be stored and bottled in vials for later use.

_These bloody parasites! I will only feed them my precious Ichor for the time being. Oh, how I yearn for the time when I will not need to rely on the Broxanian scum for energy._ Chingus cringed as it pictured its Ichor being drained to be wasted on lesser beings. Chingus's only consolation was the fact that the Broxanians would wake tomorrow, ill from the excess Ichor consumption. The Weaning continued well into the lunar rotation.

_MIDNIGHT OIL_

Cyesko's neck and back ached as he had spent hours in his chair, toiling over his desk. He gazed upon the clay tablet that he had labored so tediously over. The calligraphy of the partially completed rune was more intricate that any rune he had previously produced. The clay tablet seemed to pulse with power, and the heat emanated forth to warm his face. For all his effort he had hit a wall. He had copied the portion of the rune that he _borrowed_ from that woman in the alleyway, and he had extrapolated more parts of the rune through intuition, but the rune still remained incomplete. Cyesko stretched and let out a sigh due to his exhaustion.

Cyesko got out of his chair and shambled over to his pantry. When he opened the doors, he gazed at his food stores on the shelves: identical stacks of cans containing Fern Louse pâté, headcheese, and veal lined each one. He collected several cans of the pâté and then he snatched a metal mold hanging on the wall. He placed the tins and mold on the counter and proceeded to open each. The mold was in the form of a cartoonish Fern Louse figure. He dumped the brown, sludgy meat into the mold, and watched as it slowly conformed to the mold. Cyesko spread the meat around so that it was evenly distributed.

When he was done with this task he limped to a spherical oven with a rune emblazoned on the top. He lifted the upper half of the sphere to reveal a metal grate within, then he placed the mold on the grate, and finally he closed the cover. Cyesko held his outstretched hand over the rune and soon it glowed with energy. The spherical oven emitted heat throughout his coop.

After several minutes of cooking his food was ready. Cyesko opened the top of the oven and with a mitt he lifted the mold out. He had set a plate on the counter, and so he turned the mold upside-down and pounded on the back. After several impacts the effigy of a Fern Louse meat loaf slid out and plopped onto the plate. Cyesko tore off the Fern Louse's arm and carried it over to his desk, taking small bites out of it all the while.

_Well, I suppose it is time to get back to work and get it done._ Cyesko thought while chewing. He stared blankly at the rune, but nothing new came to him. Cyesko cursed under his breath. He rose to his feet and limped back to the kitchen where he grabbed the plate that supported the rest of the Fern Louse meat loaf. He looked down at its one arm form, then, something hit him.

"Inspiration from nature—pictograms," Cyesko muttered. He thought about Fern Louse behavior and poses while he consumed more of the meat loaf. He hobbled toward his modest library of scrolls and tablets. His eyes perused each shelf for topics on nature and native creatures of Futharkia. _Not many scrolls here having to do with pre-Broxanian times. Indeed, there are not many having to do with the natural world in general._ Cyesko thought. He rummaged through his scrolls, and finally he came upon one with a rune seal that signified Fern Lice. Cyesko eagerly spread open the scroll to read. He studied the ancient illustrations depicting Fern Lice poses in nature, for instance the fuzzed-up stance they take when threatened or the pose the male takes when trying to attract a female. Cyesko was quite intrigued to read that the male Fern Louse has a ribcage that can separate at the sternum, then swivels outward exposing the twin hearts within. Cyesko learned that the female will make her selection based on how strongly the two hearts beat in unison.

_That's it! I will use this behavior as a basis to complete my rune configuration._ Cyesko thought. He quickly snatched up his stylus and began digging into the clay's surface.

༅༅༅

Cyesko spent countless hours completing the rune, and by that time the lunar rotation had once more taken over. He felt as though his body would give out from exhaustion but his curiosity over the rune kept him awake and motivated. _It is time to find out what my labor has achieved,_ Cyesko thought. He gazed down at the clay tablet which let off a faint heat. Cyesko held his hand over the tablet to activate the rune, and immediately it crackled with energy.

_The air and light is warping around me!_ Cyesko thought. The floor began to shake and the light given off by the tablet increased. Almost instinctually, Cyesko reached out his hand and concentrated on deactivating the rune. Soon, the quaking ceased and all was normal once more. _Remarkable! This rune configuration is like nothing I have ever made before. I will need to bring it to the Exchequer—but—first I must sleep._ With that thought, Cyesko was overcome with exhaustion, so he hobbled over to his nest and it was not long before he dozed off.

༅༅༅

At the beginning of the next solar rotation, Cyesko had started out toward the Suckler Magistrate's palace. He had hired an Ichor Imp rickshaw to transport him through the busy streets to the porch steps at the front of the palace. Cyesko felt in high spirits today, and strode with a light step despite his limp. He kept his shoulder bag tucked securely by his side as he reached the front gate and rang the rune bell. After a few moments the Ichor Imp, Melchior, trotted up to the gate.

"Oh, it's you, Cyesko. Come to drop off one of your lackluster runes for the boss?" Melchior hissed. The Imp begrudgingly unlocked the gate for Cyesko's passage.

"I assure you, this is no substandard rune. Chingus will be very pleased by its quality."

"Yeah, yeah, just tell it to the clerk at the Rune Exchequer, will you?"

"Don't you worry, that's where I was heading." Cyesko walked down the corridor and approached the Exchequer window. He looked into the cutout in the glass and saw that the clerk was asleep as was usual.

"I say, good sir. I am here to exchange my rune configuration for Ichor!" Cyesko cried as to wake the Imp. The Imp snorted and jumped to attention.

"W-what? Oh, Cyesko, you always come at the most terrible times," The clerk growled.

"This is your job isn't it—to make the exchanges. I have a rune configuration that I am sure would please Chingus,"

"We'll see. What do you have?" the clerk asked. Cyesko pushed the rune tablet gently through the cutout. Without even looking the clerk shoved half a vial of Ichor toward Cyesko.

"Wait. Don't you see? Look at the intricacy and quality of the rune? If Chingus was to consume the rune it would surely be totally satisfied," Cyesko pled.

"I'll let you know how Chingus liked your rune next time. Now get!" the clerk said.

"Wait a minute. Surely this rune is worth more than half a vial?" Cyesko scoffed.

"How much do you think your rune is worth, especially since the quality hasn't been tested?' the clerk asked.

"I think this fine piece of work is worth at least a cask," Cyesko stated with confidence.

"You're a funny Broxanian. Trying to swindle me with your substandard wares?" The clerk let out a high-pitched cackle. Cyesko was livid. _I'll show this imp the rune's true power!_ he thought _._ Almost without thinking, Cyesko reached out and held his hand over the rune, which instantly glowed a red hue. The clerk tried to protest, but before he could say anything, a bolt of energy leapt out and struck the clerk, causing him to tip back in his chair. Cyesko deactivated the rune with haste. The clerk climbed to his feet and then ingested heavy amounts of Ichor to calm itself.

"W-where did you steal this rune from? It has too much power for the likes of your skill level," the clerk said.

"Never mind that. The rune is high quality and I deserve a cask!" Cyesko demanded.

"Fine. One moment." The clerk conceded and then shuffled to the back storeroom. After some time, the clerk returned with a large, round vessel of Ichor, which he placed in a compartment that was slid through the wall via a rail to Cyesko's side. Cyesko happily accepted the cask.

"Pleasure," Cyesko said and then turned to walk away. Cyesko was smiling as made his way to the front gate to leave.

"Cyesko! Cyesko!" he heard his name called. Cyesko turned to see Melchior, the Imp rushing after him.

"Yes?"

"Cyesko, Chingus has requested your presence in the hall," Melchior stated.

"Of course," Cyesko agreed. He followed the Ichor Imp through the main entrance to the hall with a sense of dread overtaking him. _I'm found out! That would be the only reason for the Suckler Magistrate to summon me,_ Cyesko thought.

༅༅༅

When Cyesko reached Chingus's hall he was taken aback to see that a Weaning of rune-scribes was underway. There were five Broxanians reclined back underneath a row of Chingus's glands which spilled its precious liquid all over the beaks and faces of the rune-scribes. They all writhed and groaned with pleasure. Cyesko instantly understood what they must have been experiencing in that moment. _You are closer than you think, Cyesko, just keep it up,_ he thought, in an effort to reassure himself.

Chingus had nodded off, but then it heard the clattering of footsteps on the stony floor of its hall. It turned to witness Melchior and Cyesko approaching its platform.

"You there, what is your name?" Chingus muttered with some strain. Cyesko thought it was due to the Weaning in progress and that Chingus must have been exhausted.

"Suckler Magistrate...I—"

"Yes, just call me Chingus. Out with it!" Chingus barked.

"I am Cyesko Limariar, your dutiful rune-scribe from the Lower Descender coops of—"

"Alright. I understand. I called you before me because I sensed a disturbance just minutes ago. Were you the cause of it?"

"Well—I—uh," Cyesko hesitated.

"Either you were or you weren't!" Chingus cried, its multiple chins quivered as it spoke.

"Yes! Yes, I am the cause of the disturbance. I have brought you a quality rune configuration of a fair amount of power," Cyesko proclaimed. Chingus grinned in response to the statement. By this time the Weaning had paused and the other rune-scribes had taken notice of Cyesko's presence. They sat upright with a golden, sticky glaze on each of their faces.

"Cyesko Limariar? What is this 'vial sucker' doing in our presence? Surely you do not think that he was the source of the powerful disturbance?" one rune-scribe cried out.

"Well, I don't know, Skanifron Cornicopulus! Maybe if you would refrain from interrupting I would find out!" Chingus said. Skanifron shrank back like he had been physically stricken.

"Apparently, these rune-scribes doubt your ability, tell me—"

"Yes, great Chingus! You are right to doubt this one!" another rune-scribe interjected. Chingus cringed in what seemed like displeasure.

"Out! Get out all of you!" Chingus yelled. The rune-scribes all jumped hastily to their feet and filed toward the door. Cyesko turned to follow them out.

"No! Not you, get back here!" Chingus commanded. Cyesko halted abruptly and turned back around to face Chingus.

"So, you are the rune-scribe responsible for the disturbance?" Chingus asked.

"Yes."

"Good, good. I confess I cannot wait to consume such a morsel," Chingus muttered, as excess saliva streamed down from the corner of its gaping mouth. Cyesko was pleased with himself in that instant. The recognition he finally craved was being heaped upon him. He held his head tall and pictured all the Masters in front of him cheering his work, and calling out his name.

"Cyesko! Why have I never heard your name before, and why have you never crafted such a rune of power before now?" Chingus asked with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"I-I have been working tirelessly to improve my craft. I have sequestered myself to finally reach this skill level, and I only did it so that I could please you, Chingus!" Cyesko confessed. _Yes, that is right, Cyesko. Keep it up, and soon you will be your rightful position._ He thought nervously.

"Very good. I like rune-scribes who seek to improve their station. So, now I require proof of your skill level. Bring me Cyesko's rune configuration," Chingus barked the order.

Melchior had retrieved the rune tablet from the clerk at the Exchequer and placed it on a platter in front of Chingus.

"I hope it pleases you," Cyesko offered. Chingus said nothing in return and only looked down at the rune. Chingus seemed to be concentrating intensely and soon the rune tablet began to glow. The hall shook from some unseen force, and the tablet dissipated into pure energy. Chingus's mouth went slack and its eyes rolled into the back of the sockets. It groaned and mumbled something unintelligible. Cyesko was afraid that his rune had done harm to Chingus. He thought about fleeing the hall, but he looked around and saw that the Ichor Imps were not alarmed.

"What a magnificent rune! I can feel my Ichor reserves being replenished as we speak!" Chingus chirped. Cyesko felt happiness sweep over him at Chingus's statement. _Could it actually be happening to me now? Will I finally be weaned like a real rune-scribe?_ Cyesko thought.

"Will I now be fed from the great gland of the Suckler Magistrate? I have waited a very—"

"Silence, Broxanian! You will presume no favors from me until you have earned it. I believe my clerk has already issued payment for your services," Chingus announced.

"But—"

"Take you Ichor cask and return home. The next time you appear to me bring a rune configuration of greater power and you will get an honored place at the teats of the Suckler Magistrate. Now, go!" With that Chingus banished Cyesko from the palace, at least until such time that he would outdo himself. Cyesko did not speak, and turned slowly to leave the hall. The Ichor cask hung loosely from his taloned hand. He was let out of the gate by Melchior who cackled with delight as Cyesko limped out to the curb to hire a rickshaw.

_THE GOLDEN SPIRAL_

"...And so, after the great World Worm and the Firebird had reached a stalemate in their war, the two Gods came to an accord. It was agreed between them that one of the Firebird's creations would become subservient to the offspring of the World Worm, in order to ensure a lasting, divine peace. So, on the sixth day after the treaty the Firebird ascended high into the heavens and its mighty flaming wings discarded fiery feathers that rained down onto the land. These divine feathers were emblazoned with the Runes of Creation. Every combination of every rune possible was created in that moment, and then the runes were absorbed into the very land of Futharkia.

It was then decreed by the World Worm and the Firebird that the Broxanians would serve the Olgoikhorkian Masters forever by crafting these ancient runes and offering them to the Masters in exchange for their protection. The Olgoikhorkians would use their psionic powers to hold the fragile realm together by consuming the energy of the runes. You see, my brethren, we have benefited from this heavenly arrangement ever since. Let us give thanks..." the old, grizzled Gothi proclaimed from his raised perch. The Gothi was dressed in a robe festooned with a pattern of burning feathers falling from the sky, that seemed to encase shining runes. The robe was fastened to the Gothi by a greensteel collar. A pointed cap featuring precious gems arranged in the sacred runic name of the Firebird affixed to it occupied the top of the Gothi's head. B _loody. I have heard this story a million times. I wonder how the Gothi summons the strength to keep telling the same, tired story with such enthusiasm repeatedly?_ Cyesko thought. He could not take his thoughts off creating new runes for Chingus. All he desired was to be respected as a rune-scribe and to be weaned.

"My brethren, before the Gods had made this arrangement, the Olgoikhorkians had previously tried to help us Broxanians, but we did not have the capability to realize what they offered, and so our primitive tribal chiefs refused them. You see, the Masters had come to Futharkia through a portal from another world. The Olgoikhorkians were the saviors that Futharkia needed, due to the volatile nature of life energy. The world that the Olgoikhorkians had come from was destroyed, sadly, by those who did not care for the world. The Masters vowed that a similar fate would not befall Futharkia, and so with their special powers they taught us how to help save this world! When the Masters arrived they found our ancestors scratching crude runes in the soil of the jungle floor to catch grubs. So, you can see that they were overjoyed when the Gods of the Sky and the Land came together with an accord.

At this time the great leader of the Olgoikhorkians, Ptungus, directed the Masters to raise us out of ignorance. They taught the Broxanians tenets of a civilized society, and ever since then we have been blessed with their gifts. The Ichor flows freely because of the Masters!" the Gothi preached, gazing upon an effigy of the Firebird suspended behind him, emblazoned with its runic name. Cyesko yawned and then looked around the temple. Many of his Broxanian brothers and sisters were enraptured in the Gothi's passionate sermon. They let loose avian songs of joy and celebration. Cyesko looked up toward the high ceiling of the hall, where he saw murals depicting the very scenes that the Gothi prattled on about: the Firebirds loosing flaming rune feathers to the land below, like so many bird droppings.

The Ichor cravings soon came clawing at the walls of his mind. He developed a terrible thirst. _I can't take it anymore. I need to get out of here before I go mad._ Cyesko thought. He got up from the hard, wooden bench he was perched on, and walked down the side aisle toward the exit.

"Where are you going? It's the middle of the service!" one follower heckled.

"Mind your own!" Cyesko shot back. He stormed out of the massive double-doors at the rear of the chamber.

༅༅༅

Cyesko had not been so inebriated since he was a young cock. He had dipped into the cask of Ichor heavily, and the world swayed around him. Small creatures with eyes on their wings would flicker in and out of existence and Cyesko was pleased that they chose him to appear to. The spectacle inspired him to create. He gripped his stylus with intent and he made quick, wide strokes against the clay to leave artistic, but meaningless marks in the clay. But, did it really matter? After all, he was having fun. _No, it does matter! I must create my greatest work to date, for my future and my reputation,_ Cyesko thought.

Soon he was sidetracked by one of the winged creatures as it landed on the floor beside him. Cyesko was shocked to watch the wings of the creature morph into a hard shell, while its body stretched out and crawled into the shell. After a few seconds a slimy head emerged from the shell with eyestalks that investigated him. The hard shell was metallic and reflected thousands of colors at once. As the creature slid on its muscular foot across the floor, it left trail of mucus in its wake. The mucus trail danced like it was alive. Something made Cyesko focus on the contours of the snail's shell. He concentrated on its form and the spiral that led into the center from the outer edges.

_The spiral! I-it moves round and round! There is something about it, I just can't place it,_ Cyesko thought. The snail seemed to follow a geometric path as it was traveling in completely straight lines. Quite unexpectedly, it made a ninety degree turn, and another, and then another. The mucus had formed a rectangle. Cyesko could not believe what he was seeing. The psychedelic mollusk paused for a moment as if to catch its breath. Cyesko leaned in with anticipation of its next action. _It's moving again!_ he thought.

The snail made a slow arc from one corner of the rectangle to the opposite end, and then, proceeded on to make a spiral formation, but as it traveled the snail shrank, as the spiral grew tighter. Soon there was nothing left of the snail but a speck that disappeared between the floorboards. Cyesko dropped to his knees and used his arcane spectacles to try to track the creature, but it was gone. What remained of its legacy was the mucus trail. Cyesko studied its form intently. _Of course! The spiral is present in many forms of the natural world. It can be expressed in runic configurations! This must be the key to creating more powerful runes!_ Cyesko thought _._ In his moment of clarity, he had suddenly noticed that he had wet himself. He thought about getting up to change his underclothes but then decided that his inspiration could not be squandered, not even for a moment. It was now or never.

Cyesko climbed back into his chair and clutched his stylus, and gazed down upon the clay tablet. He concentrated hard on the form he was trying to visualize in his head, but seconds later he plummeted face first into the soft clay, sound asleep.

༅༅༅

The pounding on the front door roused him from his slumber. Cyesko glanced around his coop in confusion. _Who could that be? I'm not expecting any company,_ he thought. The banging grew louder and this time he knew exactly where it emanated from.

"Just a minute!" he cried out. He cursed when he smelt the unclean odor from his nether regions. Cyesko limped to his armoire and pulled out a fresh pair of undershorts. The heavy knocking on the door continued unabated. Finally, Cyesko was presentable and he reached the door, then, opened it.

"Damn you, Cyesko! Where have you been? Chingus is livid! It was expecting your rune configuration a solar rotation ago!" Melchior growled through his facemask, which also slightly muffled his voice. The Imp let himself in before Cyesko could protest.

"I-I have been working!" Cyesko muttered.

"What happened in here? It looks like you had an Ichor bender. Is that soiled drawers?" Melchior asked in disgust, "I'm glad I can't smell through this mask..."

"Look, Melchior, please allow me to get ready and I will meet you at the palace," Cyesko pled.

"Not going to happen. I was given specific orders to bring you back with me. So, do what you have to do now," the Imp hissed. Cyesko rushed over to his desk to retrieve his shoulder bag and the clay tablet that he had been working on for the last few lunar and solar rotations. He was given pause for a moment when he laid eyes on the masterpiece of a rune he had created. _Did I do that?_ he thought.

"Hey, you vial sucker! Let's get a move on!" Melchior groaned. Cyesko sighed, and placed the rune tablet gently in his bag. The pair left the coop and descended the rickety metal stairs to street level. Cyesko saw that Melchior had arranged for a rickshaw to transport them, and so the two boarded. The team of Ichor Imps set off pulling the rickshaw in tow.

༅༅༅

"There you are! You have kept me waiting for quite a while. I want you to know that I don't like being kept waiting," Chingus said, leering at Cyesko with otherworldly eyes.

"Please, Suckler Magistrate, I have toiled by sun and moonlight to craft you a most exquisite rune configuration. I—"

"Yes, it better be exquisite. I have been wasting away suckling your Broxanian kinsmen, and all the while I thought that I would be recharged by a quality rune." Chingus did not break gaze with Cyesko and he fought not to wet himself out of fear.

"Chingus, you are in luck, because I assure you that the rune I have with me is of the highest quality," Cyesko stated as he moved closer and reaching into his shoulder bag to finger the clay tablet.

"Good. Then hand it over to Melchior. But, I warn you, if I am not pleased I will have your body ground up into a puree, and you will be fed to your people." Chingus uttered. Melchior approached with an outstretched hand, and Cyesko surrendered the clay tablet to him. Melchior trotted over to the hulking form that was Chingus. A silver platter had been laid out in front of Chingus, and this was where Melchior carefully placed the rune tablet. Chingus studied the calligraphy of the rune, and slowly a grin formed on its blueish-purple face.

"My, the aesthetics of this rune are very pleasing. It almost makes me regretful that I am going to consume it," Chingus said with a smile.

"I am glad it pleases you—"

"Quiet! I need silence for my meal. We shall see if the taste matches the visuals in quality," Chingus commanded. No one present made a sound now as they all watched Chingus with anticipation. The great mass of blubber under Chingus's chin compressed as it looked down at the rune, closed its eyes, and then seemingly entered a trance-like state. The rune tablet began to glow. Arcing energy shot out from the rune, and the hall started to shake. The clay tablet seemed to levitate as Chingus worked to consume the energy stored within the rune configuration. Cyesko could see that cracks had formed in the clay and blinding light shot forth to fill the chamber. Cyesko tried to shield his eyes.

Chingus let out a sustained, low moan, which gained in pitch and tempo as more and more energy was transferred from the rune to its body. At last the physical form of the rune tablet was compromised and the innate energy could be seen briefly floating in the air as nebulas cloud. Cyesko was awestruck and he gazed into the anomaly. He could have sworn that he had seen the spiral that the snail from his vision had drawn out. But, before he was sure, the energy cloud dissipated and was sucked into Chingus.

The giant, bloated worm let out and ear-splitting scream, as if it had seen a cosmic horror. Cyesko covered his ear-holes. Then, quite suddenly the screaming stopped and Chingus went slack. Its bulbous head slumped to rest upon its abdominal fat, and a steady stream of thick, yellow drool descended from the corner of its open mouth. _Did my rune configuration kill Chingus? Will I be punished?_ Cyesko thought. Cyesko considered running from the scene, but he had seen that the Masters act in strange ways when they consume runes, and none of the Ichor Imps seemed alarmed. So, they all waited for some sign of life from Chingus.

Slowly, Chingus opened its dinner plate sized eyes. The pupils were dilated and Chingus seemed distant to Cyesko. Chingus began to groan again, but the expression it wore was that of intoxication. Cyesko heard the sound of liquid falling on a hard surface. He searched around for the source, and then noticed that all of Chingus's glands were lactating freely. Streams of the golden Ichor trickled onto the floor and the puddles were channeled to drains.

_Look at all this excess Ichor. So much fresh Ichor and I can have none of it!_ Cyesko thought. His jealous thoughts were broken as Chingus apparently regained sobriety.

"For the love of the World Worm! Cyesko, you nearly killed me with that rune!" Chingus growled.

"Please forgive me, Chingus! It was not my intent—"

"Calm down—that was an amazing rune! I think my Ichor production just doubled. I feel so young right now!" Chingus said. The complexion of Chingus's skin grew brighter and it seemed to have grown younger by the consumption of the rune. Cyesko couldn't quite figure out what it was about Chingus that made him feel that way. Chingus's lighthearted mood changed in an instant and it resumed scowl on its face.

"Damn you, useless Imps! What are you waiting for? Harvest the Ichor. Be sure to refill your tanks!" Chingus ordered. The Imps screeched as they were startled and then they rushed to retrieve metal tanks that they rolled into position under each teat. The Imps then brought hoses attached to the tanks and clamped them onto each gland. Immediately, the hoses filled and the precious Ichor was funneled into the reservoirs.

"And you—what are you waiting for?" Chingus asked, staring at Cyesko intently.

"I-I am sorry if I have displeased you—"

"Are you daft? Hurry, get your fill!" Chingus said.

"Do you mean to say that I can be weaned on one of your glands, Chingus?" Cyesko asked in disbelief.

"Are you jesting? Just do it!" Chingus said with a sigh. Cyesko bowed graciously and then limped toward the row of purple, pulsating teats. There were so many that he could not make up his mind which one he wanted to claim. Finally, he chose a gland at random.

"That one!" Cyesko said, as he let an Ichor Imp know with his gesture that he had made up his mind. The Imp hurried over and disconnected the hose, then rolled the tank out of the way. Another Imp rushed over with a reclining chair and placed it under the gushing mammary.

"It's all yours, Broxanian," the Imp muttered. Cyesko sat upon the wet, sticky seat. _Here it goes, my baptism by Ichor!_ Cyesko thought. He let himself fall backward into the seat, and into the path of the Ichor stream. The lukewarm liquid washed over him as thick as honey. The sensation of being doused with Ichor was foreign to Cyesko. He opened his beak wide to get a massive quantity of the golden liquid. So much Ichor washed into his mouth that he thought he would drown. _The key is to take short gulps, and then turn your head! You can do this, Cyesko!_ he told himself.

Cyesko broke into a coughing fit and turned his head away from the stream, spitting out much of the Ichor he had tried to swallow. Melchior and other Imps started to cackle as they watched the Ichor neophyte struggling to get his dose. _They are laughing at me! I will consume the Ichor like a true rune-scribe!_ Cyesko thought. He turned his head back to the Ichor stream and swallowed a massive amount. The Ichor filled his belly with a soothingly warm sensation.

Almost immediately, Cyesko's vision went blurry, and time felt like it was slowing down. The Ichor that spewed forth from the teat cascaded down in slow motion. The winged creatures were back now, and they fluttered around him, showing off the eyes on the wings that watched him. Cyesko chuckled with glee at the sight. The world spun around him and all the pain and anxiety left his body. Cyesko laughed like a child as all in his world was right in that instant. The warm Ichor shower soothed him like he was in the rune egg again, then as quick as it had begun, it ended, and the Ichor ceased to flow.

"Alright! Up with you now. You've had your fill!" Melchior barked. Cyesko noticed that the Imp had clamped off the teat. He pulled himself upright, dizzy and drenched in Ichor. Cyesko slowly climbed out of the chair and was handed his cane by Melchior. He nearly fell, still being intoxicated, but two Ichor Imps rushed to his aid and led before Chingus.

"Now that you have had a taste of the rewards that await you if you continue to improve your runes, I expect that you will not disappoint me?" Chingus asked. Cyesko struggled for an answer but his head was clouded.

"I—yes. I will not fail you, Chingus," was all he said in return.

"Great! Now get on with you. Oh, and talk to Melchior about getting you better accommodations. I heard you live in the Southern Descender Coops, that is no place for a rune-scribe to live," Chingus said.

Cyesko just nodded in acceptance and then turned to stumble off and to find his way home.

༅༅༅

The rickshaw had dumped Cyesko off in front of the West End Suites, a towering collection of luxury coops. Cyesko still did not have his bearings and when he looked up at the mountain of steps in front of him leading to the concierge office, he nearly had a panic attack. He swayed as he climbed the stairs, slowly but surely. At last he reached the door while panting. Cyesko tapped on the side with the knob of his cane. He heard the footsteps of someone coming to the door, then, it opened.

"Yes, may I...help you?" a stuffy female Broxanian answered. The feathers surrounding her face were a light gray, but she was significantly younger than Cyesko. The woman gave Cyesko a look of disgust, and he wondered why. But, then he realized that he was coated with dried Ichor and he reeked of the liquid's sweet smell.

"Get out of here you Ichor addict! Your kind is not allowed here." The woman turned back and tried to slam the door, but Cyesko thrust his cane in the way, and the door remained ajar.

"How dare you! I'll call the constable!" she screamed.

"I say! Hear me out. I was sent here by the Suckler Magistrate, Chingus! My name is Cyesko Limariar. They should have sent advance word!" Cyesko yelled. The woman stopped resisting at the mention of his name.

"Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?" she asked. Cyesko was at a loss for words.

"I—uh—because you thought I was an addict!"

"Aren't you?"

"I-I suppose...but, so are all the other rune-scribes! Now, please can we get down to business?" Cyesko asked in annoyance.

"Yes, let's see here. Chingus did send a new order to provide a suite to a rune-scribe in its employ. Listen, a word of advice, the residents that live here are very respectable and they are very particular. If you are to live here, you should probably clean up and dress a bit nicer—"

"Lady! I just came straight here from the Suckler Magistrate's palace! I haven't had a chance to even bathe!" Cyesko cried out in exasperation.

"Right. What you do in your off time is your own business. I am just offering you an advice. Now, here is your key. When you are finished moving in we will install a rune lock. Follow me and I will show you to your suite," the woman said. Cyesko let out a deep sigh.

༅༅༅

The concierge had let Cyesko into his new suite but did not bother to give him a tour due to the stench he had given off. Cyesko could discern that the smell was a mixture of feces and rotten Ichor. Cyesko had to concentrate so as not to wretch. He was still very much drunk on Ichor and the only thing he could think of to take the edge off was more Ichor. He reached into his shoulder bag and procured a vial; he popped out the cork, and then tipped it back, swallowing its contents. Almost immediately, he felt the headache and pain melt away as the liquid warmed his body.

Cyesko gazed around the space he currently found himself in. _Where the hell am I? Oh yes, this is where I live now. Where's my furniture? Oh look! It's my winged friends!_ he thought. The Ichor had taken effect and he wandered around the large suite with the abandon of a hatchling on a playground. Cyesko writhed around on the marble floor in the large, cavernous lounge. He gazed upon art hung on the walls by famous "scratch" artists. The marks that had been made with their talons seemed to pulsate and wiggle as if they were alive. He giggled at the living art performing for him. Cyesko got up and then proceeded down a corridor that seemed to curve around in a spiral climbing to the next story. All along the walls were gray stones set with white mortar. Cyesko was amused as the texture of the rock grew tiny faces that called out his name and greeted him. He bowed to the faces and waved. Finally, he had reached the master suite on the second level.

The room was round and the walls were lined with flamestone, with greensteel fixtures that supported rune-powered lighting. Cyesko danced around the center of the room, and then collapsed to the floor in a dizzy and drunken heap. He passed out where he laid.

༅༅༅

When Cyesko woke again he coughed and had a mighty thirst. His mouth was parched, and the stench he could barely take. _By the Firebird! I soiled myself again. How long have I been out?_ he thought. Cyesko checked his runic calendar, and then he panicked when he realized he had slept through another solar rotation. Cyesko tried to climb to his feet but he stumbled and ended back on the floor. _I can't handle these Ichor withdrawals quite like I used to when I was younger. I have to get back to my old coop and start working on a new rune configuration for Chingus before it has me thrown into a processor._ Cyesko thought.

He used his cane to steady himself and then descended down the spiral corridor that led to the lounge. Cyesko let himself out the front door and started walking toward the street as fast as his feet would carry him.

"Cyesko, Cyesko Limariar? What in the name of the Bird and the Worm are you doing here?" a voice asked from behind. Cyesko turned to see who it was. He was shocked and unpleased to see Skanifron Cornicopulus standing there. The rune-scribe was dressed in his finest tunic, trousers and matching cap that displayed his runic name lined with Mud Moth tusk ivory.

"Oh, hello, I was just on my way out. If you'll excuse me—"

"Don't tell me you are living here now? Chingus must be desperate for rune energy if it is raising you up now. All its rune-scribes know Chingus is envious of Dingus, who will soon procreate by fragmentation," Skanifron said.

"Yes, well, all very interesting but I must go. Cheerio!" Cyesko briskly walked away from Skanifron who let out a groan of disapproval. When Cyesko reached the curb he hailed a rickshaw that promptly scooped him up.

༅༅༅

"Hey you there! The lot of you there! How would you all like to be earn enough in Ichor to pay for new tanks, not these rusted tin cans you currently use. I will refill your tanks with fresh Ichor as well!" Cyesko called out to the group of homeless Ichor Imps congregating on the street corner.

"Piss off! You smell like crap. You don't have any Ichor!" a stunted Imp hissed, short for even his species. All the other Imps present cackled in unison at Cyesko.

"I assure you! I have Ichor. Here, consider this a down payment!" Cyesko tossed a vial of Ichor to the short Imp and he caught it. The other Imps moaned when they witnessed this and a scuffle broke out.

"Calm down! All of you, there is enough to go around, but first you have to earn it! Now, come with me and help me move my things," Cyesko demanded. The Imps all agreed and soon Cyesko had a line of minions following him up to his old coop. He opened the door and let the ragged Imps spill into the one-room hovel.

"What a dump!" one Imp muttered.

"Just gather everything up, and help me get it out of here!" Cyesko said. He approached his desk and gathered up his tools and clay tablets. _How the hell are you going to be able to craft a new rune configuration amid all this moving chaos, Cyesko? Fine mess you got yourself into this time!_ he thought. Suddenly he realized that the fragment he had _borrowed_ from that woman was still among his tools. He reached for it out of his bag and turned the fragment in his hand. On the back he spied a barely visible runic name.

"Tialina Syntroniphus." He muttered under his breath.

_BLEACH WHITE_

Tialina had been on the run for a solar and lunar cycle now. She had crossed the entirety of Futharkia, through teeming slums, sprawling suburban coops, and exclusive neighborhoods. She now stood in front of the towering Runic Barrier that separated Futharkia from the uncivilized and dangerous wilds that lay beyond. She stood staring up at the pulsing, green field of energy that was being generated by spire-like pylons powered by a red, glowing rune at the base of each. The green energy crackled intensely, and Tialina did not want to test its power with her own person.

_If I use this rune configuration it should generate enough of its own energy to negate a portion of the field for a split-second but, but what if...,_ Tialina didn't finish the thought because she knew there would be no surviving if she failed. She was tired, dirty and hungry from much time on the run, and she just wanted to get out of the city so that she could recuperate in peace without fear of the Rune Golem snatching her.

Tialina unfastened the pack from her back and set it on the ground beside her. She rifled through its contents, pushing rations and spare clothing out of the way. Finally, she found a clay rune tablet, and she held it in front of her. She studied the form and calligraphy of the rune. _It will be a shame to sacrifice such a fine rune just for this, but I have no choice,_ she thought. Tialina held her spare hand above the rune and concentrated.

The rune tablet began glow red and at that instant she threw the tablet against the green energy field as hard as she could. The tablet hit the field as disintegrated, which released the rune's stored energy that exposed outward. The green energy field was forced back causing a rift in the wall. Tialina shouldered her pack and sprinted toward the rift. _Faster, you have to run faster!_ she told herself. Tialina could see that the rune's own energy was dissipating and the field would reestablish unity at any second. She dove through the rift just as the energy field became whole again right behind her.

_You did it,_ she thought. Tialina dusted herself off and stood up. A couple hundred feet in front of her the tree line of the Great Fern Jungle started. _Well, can't say I know the first thing about living in the wilds. I guess I should get started,_ she thought. Tialina started off toward the thick undergrowth and towering ferns, and soon she was swallowed by a sea of emerald green.

༅༅༅

Tialina had hiked through the thick foliage for what seemed to be hours. She was getting hungry but she hesitated to eat any of the Fern Louse canned meat she carried unless it was a total emergency. Tialina looked around for anything that appeared edible growing among the plants. Something bright red caught her eye. _These seem to be berries of some sort. Perhaps I can eat these,_ she thought. Tialina approached the plant with curlycue sprouts flanked by small, bright berries that grew in pairs.

She drew closer to the berry-bearing plant and studied its fruit. _Seems okay to eat. Well, here it goes,_ Tialina thought. She snapped off two berries from the bush and slowly brought the berries up toward her beak. In a flash the red berries were snatched out of her hand. She looked up and caught sight of a white, furry humanoid creature swinging through the branches. The creature perched on a branch and faced her. It bared its teeth with an expression that seemed to suggest mockery. The creature raised the berries clutched in its hands overhead, cast them down into the thick underbrush, and then it let out a shrill screech.

"Hey! Those were my lunch! How dare you—wait, are they even edible?" she said. Tialina heard a wrestling in the branches surrounding her, and other white fur bound creatures converged on her position.

"Wild Fern Lice!" she cried. The entire troupe joined in on the screeching now. When she looked closer at the faces she saw what seemed to be multiple colored stripes and markings. She realized from her experience in the processing plant that they were not natural markings. _Is that paint?_ she asked herself. Tialina noticed that some of the Fern Lice carried sharpened sticks and wore rudimentary garments and trinkets made from teeth, bones, and shells of other organisms. One Fern Louse jumped down off the tree and scurried in a circle around her, howling loudly. The Fern Louse completed its third lap and then rushed off into the forest. Tialina could have sworn that the Fern Louse troupe was making gestures for her to follow them. The troupe itself seemed to be following a designated leader as they swung through the branches of the trees.

_Well, I better follow them. This is probably my only chance for survival out here,_ Tialina thought. She started into a sprint to follow the Fern Lice, swatting branches out of her way and she moved through the underbrush. The terrain started into an incline now and Tialina realized that the Fern Lice were leading her up a hill. At last she reached the summit of the hill, which was devoid of trees. Tialina saw that the Fern Lice had gathered there and they took in the view from the top of the hill. She moved up to join them.

_The forest! What is wrong with the forest?_ she thought. She was truly shocked by the sight she beheld. In among the sea of emerald green were vast patches of bright white, like craters on the moon's face. The white patches looked small from her vantage point, but she knew that they were acres across in actual size. The Fern Lice were silent in that moment, like they were holding a memorial for the dead patches of forest. _What could have caused such a weird phenomenon to occur? I have never seen anything like it._ Tialina thought.

After some moments there was a commotion among the Fern Louse troupe, and the designated leader darted off back down the hill. Tialina saw the rest of the Fern Lice follow so she went after them as well.

༅༅༅

_I have never heard of anything like this happening. It's beyond me,_ Tialina thought in disbelief. The surrounding forest was bleached white, the ferns were petrified and numerous animal carcasses littered the area like so many ancient fossils. Each plant and animal was preserved in a perfect likeness, like a mannequin, but they all were clearly deceased. The Fern Lice looked around the macabre forest graveyard, only some groaned meekly. Tialina could feel the brittle grass fracture and crumble underfoot. She approached a white, petrified Fern Louse body, frozen in time. She reached out to touch its face, and quite suddenly the head fell away from the body with sharp snap.

Tialina flinched backward. _I barely touched the body and it broke. What could have done this?_ She thought. The Fern Lice became agitated and began jumping around the area, breaking branches off dead trees and fracturing fallen logs and shrubs. _What has got them so worked up?_ she wondered. Just then the forest floor began to quake, and in the canopy she could see that trees, living and dead, were being toppled like dominoes. The Fern Lice troupe scattered out of sight, and Tialina was frozen in fright. Then she saw the rune on the face of the Rune Golem emerge from the tree line as it bowled over old-growth ferns as if they were children's toys. The giant lumbered toward her, smashing bleached carcasses under its trunk-like legs.

Tialina stumbled clumsily backward, and she could not find support for her feet, which broke each brittle object that they tread upon. She fell on her back as the titan drew closer to her. Tialina crawled away in a desperate attempt to flee, but the pile of broken corpses offered no support. The Rune Golem now stood over her and enveloped her in its shadow, blocking out the sun. It reached down for her, slowly but surely.

Just then a wooden spear was thrown at the Rune Golem, and it stuck into the clay body of the beast. Other spears rained down which sunk into its form, making the Rune Golem resemble a pincushion. Tialina looked up to see the Fern Lice darting about and throwing their sharpened sticks at the Golem. It showed no sign of experiencing pain or even annoyance, as it only shifted its gaze from Tialina to the Fern Lice. She heard a screeching close to her from under a pile of bleached debris. A lone Fern Louse gestured for her to follow it, and it crawled into a tunnel under the debris. Tialina wasted no time following into the crawlspace right as the Rune Golem nearly snatched her.

Tialina followed the Fern Lice into the darkness, and soon she could see light up ahead. The Rune Golem followed some distance behind with its feet smashing the bleached detritus with each step. Soon Tialina reached the end of the tunnel and she was out. The Fern Louse darted off into open jungle and Tialina ran at top speed to follow it, leaving the Rune Golem in the distance.

༅༅༅

Another hour had passed before she saw signs of anything different besides thick jungle and giant insects. Tialina could see a smoke pillar rising above the tree canopy, like smoke coming from a barbecue pit and not that of a structure fire. She assumed that the Fern Lice were leading her to their village, or whatever they called it. As she got closer to where she thought the village was located she could see trinkets and talisman hanging from the fern branches. The decorations were made from woven sticks, tanned hides, and smaller animal skulls. They were free hanging so that they could sway in the breeze. Some of the hanging talismans worked like wind chimes, making soothing sounds to the ear.

Soon Tialina could see the outlines of what looked to be primitive structures set high up in the fern branches that sheltered the Fern Lice from the elements. They appeared to be made from hides with a woven skeleton of sticks and thatching. When she walked into the area under the tree village, curious Fern Lice heads popped out from the structures to size her up. She smiled and waved at the creatures. The other Fern Lice that had led her to the village scurried up the trunks of the ferns to greet the members of their families with social grooming and strange embraces. Many of the young did not heed what Tialina thought were parental warning grunts, and they swarmed down the tree trunks like so many insects. When the young Lice reached the bottom they crowded around Tialina and made low hoots of curiosity. They gently grabbed at her feathers with interest, and one bold Louse hopped up on her shoulder, attempting to loot her pack. _The last thing I want them to do is get into my canned meats. I wouldn't want for them to end up cannibals,_ she thought. Tialina laughed and played with some of the Fern Lice young for a time.

Soon the young were called away with stern calls by their mothers from high above. The young Lice scattered toward their respective Ferns, and then with great skill, scaled the towering trees effortlessly. Tialina was left alone on the forest floor and it was getting dark out. _Well, I guess I am on my own now. Perhaps I should find some shelter while I can still see?_ she thought. Tialina searched around for any shelter that would offer a modicum of protection from the elements. Nearby there was a cliff face with a narrow path leading up to cave several hundred feet above. _Maybe I can check out the cave and camp there? That's quite a treacherous path leading up_ , she thought.

Tialina marched toward the rocky path up the steep cliff-side. When she reached the first couple of steps a Fern Louse jumped into the way without warning. It jumped up and down and shrieked wildly. Tialina thought it would attack her for a moment, but then she realized that it just wanted to bar her path to the cave entrance.

"Okay, easy there! I won't go that way," she said. Tialina turned around, but the Louse did not leave her side, instead it gestured as if it wanted her to follow. _Alright, you Lice have not steered my wrong yet. Let's see where you want to take me,_ Tialina thought. The Louse scampered off through some scrub and Tialina struggled to keep pace. Soon, they had reached their destination: a hollow dugout at the base of the cliff. The small alcove seemed to offer enough shelter that she would not get wet if it rained, and it appeared to have been used recently. Tialina took this as a good sign.

"Well, thank you, friend!" she said. The Louse made a screech and then pulled something out from inside its mouth. _I guess they store something in their cheeks? Food?_ she speculated. The Louse threw two saliva-soaked larvae of some sort at her feet, and then hurried off. _It is the thought that counts. Not that I'll be eating those morsels,_ she thought. Tialina propped her back up against the sloping wall of the alcove and reclined against it. _This will probably be the best accommodations I can expect in the Great Fern Jungle, so I might as well get used to it_ , Tialina thought. She closed her eyes and not long after drifted off to sleep.

__

༅༅༅

A lone sunbeam pierced the tree canopy to land squarely on Tialina's brow, and gently roused her from her slumber. She sat upright and stretched. She felt surprisingly refreshed for having slept in a glorified hole in a wall. Suddenly, she heard a rustling of leaves in the underbrush not far away, and she shot to her feet. A Fern Louse crawled out from the brush. She recognized it as the leader of the warband that saved her from the Rune Golem. The leader of the crude warband tried to get Tialina's attention with low grunts and a dance, hopping from leg to leg while waving its spear in the air. Tialina got the message and began to follow the beast.

The Fern Louse climbed up precarious rock ledges, and she could see that it was heading to the cave she had seen before in the cliff face. The entrance was flanked by crude rune markings painted on the rock wall. _I can hardly believe it. So, the Fern Lice really can use runes after all? I always thought it was myth,_ Tialina pondered. She concentrated on climbing the narrow ledge that led to a cave high above the forest floor. When she got to the cave opening, she studied the runes that emblazoned on the rock. At a closer glance the runes were deceptively more detailed and intricate than they appeared to be from afar. The bars and serifs were encompassed by smaller runes amassed to give the appearance of a solid form. _This is amazing. The runes are far more complicated than anything a typical rune-scribe produces. It even puts my runes to shame,_ she thought.

The Fern Louse emerged from the darkness of the cave and let out a loud screech, apparently annoyed that she had not followed it into the cavern. She chuckled and then continued into the void. As she walked deeper into the chasm she could see that the walls were illuminated by glowing runes carved into the clay tablets affixed to the rough walls. They gave off a ghostly green shine. Soon she came upon crude mural paintings on the walls depicting what looked to be Fern Lice living in villages set among the trees. As she walked further along she saw that the mural showed a form in the sky, and that bird-like beings poured from a portal or opening. It showed the bird figures meeting the white figures that she assumed were Fern Lice. Tialina studied it further and the picture seemed to show cooperation between the two groups, raising crops and trading.

The mural eventually grew darker in style and substance when it depicted what Tialina recognized immediately: the coming of the Olgoikhorkians. The giant, worm-like creatures were shown to be enslaving the bird people, which Tialina figured were Broxanians. Soon, the mural showed Broxanians entering the jungle with cages, trapping large numbers of Fern Lice, to be brought back to a cartoonish settlement. She guessed that this was Futharkia. The last portion of the mural disturbed her so. The crude painting displayed the Olgoikhorkians consuming runes followed by a sea of green being turned white by some force. The mural's last scene showed a dark void in place of the area that Futharkia used to occupy.

"Come, child, come to the back of this cave," a voice called in Tialina's mind. _What could that possibly be?_ she thought, startled by the event. Tialina's gaze darted about the cave looking for whoever had said the line, but there was no one. _Maybe I should do what it says,_ Tialina concluded, and she followed a faint light back deeper into the cave.

"That's it. You're on the right track," the voice said. Tialina did not like the fact that her mind was being invaded, and she was keen to find the source of the intrusion. She heard the sounds of something burning and the flickering light of flames from around a bend. When she turned the corner she was confronted with an open chamber. There was a strange, crude wicker chair, lined with pelts that supported a small, hooded figure that did not stir. The chair was flanked by two braziers that contained flames, which burned coals. The walls were covered in crude runes, and the floor of the hall was littered with old, dried bones. The Fern Louse that led her to the cave sat silently beside the wicker throne. Tialina walked slowly toward the chair, but suddenly tripped and fell flat on her stomach. Her packed was thrown open and the contents spilled out among the bones on the floor. The tin cans filled with Fern Louse meat rolled in all directions with one settling right at the foot of the chair.

The hooded figure slowly reached down to pick up the tin can. The grey-white fur on the arm betrayed the figure as a Fern Louse. It turned the can in its hand and then set it aside.

"I-I am sorry, I did not mean to offend you with these cans—" Tialina tried to say.

"No need to apologize, my kind has become used to being hunted and farmed as a food source for that great, bustling monstrosity you call Futharkia. Please come closer," the voice said. It was the same voice from before.

"Who are you?" Tialina asked. She stepped closer. The cloaked figure cast off the hood to reveal its face. Tialina could see the age expressed on the face of the Fern Louse, but it was accentuated with face paint under her eyes.

"I am the Elder Matron of this tribe. I have no name. We give them up when we ascend to the role."

Tialina was amazed to find that the Fern Louse was communicating to her without speaking her language, and without verbalizing anything.

"How is it that you can talk to me in this way?" Tialina asked out loud.

"Broxanians are not the only ones who can create and manipulate rune configurations. There are those among my people who use them, myself included," the Elder Matron stated, "Thousands of years working with runes have given a few of my species certain mental abilities..."

"I think I understand. What is happening with the forest? Why are there those white, dead zones?" Tialina asked. The Elder Matron lowered her head solemnly, and remained silent for a moment. Tialina wondered if she had offended the Elder Matron.

"The use of rune configurations, of course. Not small-scale use like that of our tribes, but wide-spread, excessive use like that of the Olgoikhorkians," the Elder Matron said.

"Why would rune use lead to the bleaching of the forest?" Tialina asked.

"Runes are physical manifestations of the life energy of the realm. When a rune configuration is created it stores a certain amount of energy in it depending on the quality and craftsmanship of the rune. When a rune is destroyed or consumed it drains that energy and transfers it to a new conduit," the Elder Matron explained.

"Do you mean to say that energy being drained out of the natural world is causing these dead zones?"

"Yes, the rune usage causes the bleaching of the forest and the land," the Elder Matron muttered.

"Well then, all were need to do is stop the Olgoikhorkian Masters from consuming runes so excessively and we can reverse the damage, right?" Tialina asked excitedly. The Elder Matron didn't mirror her enthusiasm for the answer.

"You can try. But, I feel it may be far too late for this realm. The ravaging has continued unabated for millennia. My tribe is one of the last that inhabit this jungle, they have fallen victim to the bleached zones or have been poached to near extinction. Our tribal range has nearly been destroyed as we are surrounded by the 'bleached dead'. We Fern Lice have not always been exploited as a food source. In antiquity, Broxa and Fern Lice had inhabited the same regions and had even hunted cooperatively using runes. But after the Olgoikhorkians appeared and enslaved the Broxanians, everything changed," the Elder Matron divulged.

"What happened to allow the Olgoikhorkian Masters enslave the Broxanians? I don't understand," Tialina asked with urgency. The Elder Matron did not answer and she appeared to be in deep contemplation in that moment. Tialina wanted to reach out and shake the Elder Matron for the answer, but then a great howling of Fern Lice from outside the cave erupted. The Warband Leader jumped up and rushed out of the cave. _They must be raising an alarm! What could it be?_ Tialina thought.

"The Rune Golem has found you! You must escape out of the back of the cavern while what's left of my tribe will slow it down!" the Elder Matron instructed.

"What about you and your tribe? I can't leave you here!" Tialina cried out.

"Our time is over. Even if we managed to defeat the Rune Golem our location would be known to the Olgoikhorkian Masters and we would be trapped and hunted to oblivion!" the Elder Matron explained. Tialina wanted to force the Elder Matron to come with her but it was futile.

"How will you stop this Golem? It will kill you all?" Tialina was puzzled.

"Don't you worry child, I will use the tribe's sacred rune to good use. None of my tribe will suffer!" The Elder Matron was serene in the hour of her doom. Tialina smiled and bowed as if to signal a "thank you", then she rushed to the back of the cave. Behind her she could feel the rumbling of the Rune Golem lumbering up the cliffside to reach the cave entrance. Tialina picked up her pace as she wound through the rocky warrens searching for an outlet. Runes affixed to the rock wall lit her way. She could hear the ghastly shrieks of Fern Lice that she could only assume were being killed at the hands of the Rune Golem.

As she rounded one last corner she could see daylight. Tialina crossed the threshold into open air. She had been led into a river valley behind the mountain that had sheltered the Elder Matron's cave. She rushed down to the riverbank to take a drink of water. As she knelt down for a drink she could feel a low rumbling through the land. The quake intensified to a violent tremor, which knocked her on her rear end. Tialina looked this way and that and could see animals fleeing from the mountainside. A great white light rose up from the earth and beamed into the sky. She watched in horror as green ferns were enveloped by a creeping white coating that swallowed everything around. The creatures that tried to flee did not move fast enough and were consumed by the bleaching effect, petrified like a macabre marble statue. The bleaching effect only lasted several seconds and then it was over.

_The Elder Matron set off the sacred tribal rune to save me. The Rune Golem would have been consumed in the reaction along with her entire tribe. I must not allow their sacrifice to be in vain,_ she thought. Tialina gathered up her things and set out to return to Futharkia to do something about the Olgoikhorkian Masters, what that would actually be she did not know.

_BORROWED INSPIRATION_

Through some arduous detective work Cyesko had learned where Tialina Syntroniphus was employed: the Lower Descender Fern Louse Processing Plant. The soot-stained industrial spires of the plant spewed pillars of black smoke into the sky. The bitter stench of burnt hair permeated the air around the plant. Cyesko lurched up to the front chain-link gate where a weathered-looking Broxanian sentry was posted. He wore a greensteel cuirass and a rune sword hung from his belt. When Cyesko approached the sentry perked up and looked at Cyesko with a weary eye.

"What do ya want?" was all the sentry said while grasping the hilt of the sword with his taloned hand.

"Hello, good sir. I am here because I must talk to one of your employees. It is an urgent matter!" Cyesko said.

"Piss off! You'll interrupt the production line if you do that," the sentry growled.

"Sir, I do not wish to halt production, I just want to ask an employee a few brief questions—"

"Don't make me stick you with my sword. I will—"

"Okay, okay. Perhaps we got off on the wrong note. If you help me with my quarry by letting me in I have a vial of Ichor with your name on it," Cyesko suggested while displaying the top portion of the vial. The sentry rubbed his chin feathers, and then pulled open the chain-link gate.

"You have until the lunar rotation, then you have to get!" the sentry barked as he snatched the vial out of Cyesko's clutches.

"Good man. I am glad we could come to an accord," Cyesko said as he walked past the sentry and then he opened the rusty metal door to enter the plant. When he crossed the threshold into the plant an overwhelming hum of machinery churning away nearly made him want to throw his hands over his ear-holes. Cyesko followed runic signage directing him to the processing floor. He wandered down a sterile metal corridor, which terminated in a set of double-doors. He pushed them open and was hit by a wave of hot air and the smell of wet fur and blood. Cyesko nearly fainted from the overpowering combination.

Cyesko looked around the processing floor and took in the view: several rails that ran the length of the chamber carried countess Fern Louse corpses from one station to the other. Cyesko estimated that thousands of Fern Louse carcasses were being processed in that moment. He caught sight of what looked to be a control room that overlooked the rest of the processing floor. He moved down a metal catwalk affixed to the wall high above giant hoppers that churned tons of mulched Fern Louse flesh into a fine paste. Cyesko nearly wretched at the sight, but he kept his composure.

When Cyesko reached the dented door to the control room, he rapped on it repeatedly with his cane. He heard a commotion from the other side of the door, and then, suddenly, the door swung open, and he was greeted by a fat, red-feathered Broxanian, dressed in an orange helmet and matching tunic.

"Who the hell are you and what do you want? Can't you see I'm working here," the fat man yelled with breath reeking of Ichor.

"Apologies. I am Cyesko Limariar, rune-scribe to the Suckler Magistrate, Chingus. I am here looking for a Tialina Syntroniphus. Would you know where I can find her?" Cyesko asked.

"Tialina? What do you want with that useless hen? She hasn't been to work in over ten solar rotations! If you see her, tell her the Masters will be sending Imps after her for truancy!" the fat foreman bellowed.

"I am afraid I have not seen her, hence me looking for her. Listen, do you have an address I can find her at?" Cyesko asked.

"Well, I guess. Let me check the employee file." The foreman lumbered back into the control room and Cyesko could see that he rifled through a cabinet filled with scrolls. The foreman tossed numerous scrolls to the floor and then he finally grabbed one from the drawer.

"Ah! Here it is!" the foreman exclaimed as he walked back to Cyesko, stepping on the loose scrolls. He slapped the scroll against Cyesko chest, and Cyesko accepted the scroll with a forced smile.

"Much appreciated!"

"Now get your tail feathers out of here, and if you see that hen tell her the Masters will be after her if she doesn't return to work, and she still owes the company for a uniform!" the foreman grunted, and then slammed the metal door before Cyesko could say anything else. Cyesko sighed with relief as he could now leave this unpleasant place with the loud racket and the stench of death.

༅༅༅

Cyesko had read the scroll that the foreman had given him, and found that Tialina resided in the same Lower Descender coops that he used to live in. So, he caught a rickshaw back to his old neighborhood. Cyesko stood in front of the hovels, stacked atop one another precariously. _It is almost shocking to think that I actually lived here. The coops seem so alien to me,_ Cyesko thought. He climbed the rickety, old stairs to the coops on the upper level, searching for Tialina's coop. Soon, he came upon a coop that had a large hole punched out of one wall. From the look of it there had been a half-hearted attempt to patch up the hole with random pieces of wood, but the wood had been stripped away. _Maybe Tialina has come home and did not want to be seen entering her coop?_ Cyesko thought.

Cyesko poked his head in through the hole to get an idea of the layout. He could see that the place had been ransacked as vases were broken, furniture was overturned, and graffiti covered the walls. There was a creaking of floorboards coming from the pantry in the kitchen. _Someone is rummaging for food. Should I try to enter?_ Cyesko hesitated for a moment, but then decided to enter the coop.

"Hello!" he yelled as he stepped through the hole in the wall. A young Broxanian head peered out of the pantry with wide eyes.

"It's an adult! Let's get out of here!" one child yelled. Another emerged from under a pile of debris with a handful of jewelry that Cyesko assumed was Tialina's own.

"Scat! All of you! Get out!" Cyesko barked. The children ran for the hole carrying as much loot as they could. Soon, they were gone. _Finally, I can search for more runes in peace,_ he thought. He gazed around the disaster of a coop, looking like a storm had battered the interior. _Where do I even start with this mess?_ he thought. Cyesko pushed some of the smashed debris aside with his cane to see if he could find something of interest, but nothing was found. He moved closer to the overturned desk that he assumed Tialina had worked at. Cyesko rifled through the drawers of the desk but he only found random junk, and he let out a sigh. _Where would all her tools and clay have gone? Have they already been looted by some scribe?_ Cyesko thought. He sunk down onto the desk in defeat.

_I came here too late. Now, I will surely be turned into Fern Louse puree by Chingus,_ Cyesko lamented. As his eyes lowered to the floor he noticed that a rug was bunched up and partially obscured a seam in a wooden plank that encompassed the floor. He traced the seam and saw that it met up with a metal hinge. _A door in floor!_ Cyesko thought. He stood upright and approached the portion of floor that was covered by the rug. With some strain he bent down and removed the rug to reveal the full width and breadth of the hatch. Cyesko found an iron ring that acted as a door handle and then he pulled the door back and let it slam on the wooden floor. He saw that a small compartment was uncovered. Only a single trunk was contained within. With much great struggle Cyesko dragged the trunk from the hole and then he sat back, panting heavily from exertion.

Cyesko stared at the ornate fern wood and alabaster trunk. _This piece must have cost her quite a bit of Ichor to purchase._ Cyesko thought. A runic lock kept the trunk closed and so Cyesko hovered his hand over the rune and concentrated to activate it. After several seconds the mechanism clicked open, and Cyesko pulled open the lid. When he peered inside at the contents he became overjoyed to see that Tialina's tools, clay tablets, and notes rested within. _So, Cyesko, your instincts have proven correct once again. These goods are sure to help catapult you into the elite of rune-scribe society,_ Cyesko thought.

He grabbed the handles on either side of the trunk, lifting it up with his knees bent; he nearly dropped the bulky trunk. Cyesko waddled slowly, but surely out the front door of Tialina's coop to bring the trunk to the curb. From there he would hire a rickshaw to haul the trunk and himself back to the West-end Suites.

༅༅༅

Cyesko was relieved to be back in his West-end Suite safely, and with Tialina's trunk intact. _Now I can study its content in privacy and at my leisure,_ he thought. Cyesko walked toward a cabinet within his lounge containing a collection of Ichor vessels. He reached for a greensteel chalice and poured himself a portion. He tipped it back and drank. _I suppose I should attempt to craft another rune for Chingus. It will be expecting another delivery soon,_ Cyesko concluded.

Cyesko had opened up the trunk taken from Tialina's coop, and rifled through the contents. There were a number of perfectly shaped clay tablets yet to be used, and a pile of scrolls with Tialina's notes scribbled upon them. Cyesko picked up each clay tablet to inspect them. One after another he found that they were blank. _How am I supposed to come up with a new rune if I don't have reference material?_ He thought. Cyesko dropped a clay tablet on his desk haphazardly, and then paced his lounge. He contemplated what to do next.

_Nothing! There is nothing on her tablets. I suppose my only option is to study her scrolls to see what kind of notes she recorded. It would be so much easier if I was able to pick her brain—let her in on the profit,_ Cyesko thought. But, there was no way around his need to perform hard work and research. Cyesko went to the trunk, scooped up an armful of scrolls, and then dropped them on the surface of his desk. _Well, Cyesko, old boy, I guess it's time to get to work,_ he thought as he took another swig of Ichor.

༅༅༅

Cyesko was suffering from a splitting headache due to Ichor withdrawal. The last several solar rotations had been an intensive research and work session fueled by Fern Louse pâté and Ichor. Cyesko was delirious, tired and hungry, but he had pored over Tialina's scrolls and had found valuable information that he used for the basis of a new rune configuration. He looked down at his new creation and smiled. _My skill level has improved leaps and bounds just in this last solar rotation alone. I can hardly believe how my life has changed, but there is still so much more to accomplish!_ Cyesko thought.

Cyesko held a hand hovering over the rune and concentrated to activate it. Seconds later the rune on the tablet began to glow red. The large, wrought iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the center of the lounge swayed with increasing force, and the floor shook. _Whoa! That's enough! I know this rune configuration is of high quality,_ Cyesko thought as he worked to deactivate the rune before it destroyed his suite.

Cyesko was satisfied that his rune was potent enough to impress Chingus, so he stowed the rune tablet in his shoulder bag and headed for the door of his suite. Once outside he activated the rune on the door, which controlled the lock and secured it. He hurried down to street level to catch a rickshaw.

༅༅༅

"There's the man of the hour! What kept you? Chingus is waiting anxiously for your presence! Come on, you don't want to keep him waiting," Melchior announced with enthusiasm.

"Hello, Melchior, I was busy crafting a fine rune for Chingus's pleasure. You cannot rush quality!" Cyesko stated proudly as he stood at the iron gate leading to the palace. Melchior chuckled and worked to open the gate for Cyesko. The large gate swung open and Cyesko strutted inside. He was led by the Imp to the inner sanctum of the palace, where Chingus waited. However, the Suckler Magistrate was not alone. In the hall with it were all its other rune-scribes who talked quietly amongst themselves. When Cyesko entered the hall all the rune-scribes grew silent and they all wore stoic expressions on their faces.

Cyesko gazed upon Chingus, who was dressed its best finery. A gold and greensteel necklace hung below its many rolling chins, and a large tiara with precious stones was place upon its pockmarked head. There was a hint of purple eye makeup around its massive, yellow eyes. Chingus had been dolled up for this occasion, and the thought made Cyesko feel strange.

"Ah, yes, there you are, Cyesko! Welcome! Please step forward. We have all gathered here to witness the quality of your rune while I consume it. You, of course, can be an example to all rune-scribes," Chingus proclaimed, while sneering at the other rune-scribes assembled. The rune-scribes said nothing in return.

"Great Chingus, I have your rune configuration right here with me. Would you like it—"

"Yes, now! Bring it here, so that I can take in its beauty!" Chingus barked impatiently. It was clear to Cyesko that the rune configurations had an addictive quality that affected the Olgoikhorkians like their own Ichor had upon Broxanians. _Chingus is addicted to my runes!_ Cyesko thought. He couldn't help but smile.

"Here is my offering to you, Chingus," Cyesko said and then he laid the rune tablet on the platform in front of Chingus's bulbous form. Chingus gazed down upon the clay tablet and grinned widely, flashing uneven, slab teeth.

"And now it is time for me to consume this finely crafted rune! All rune-scribes are permitted to share in the bounty!" Chingus announced. There was a collective gasp let out from the numerous rune-scribes gathered in the hall. Chingus closed its eyes, seemingly in deep concentration. A small patch of skin on Chingus's forehead began to glow simultaneously with the rune tablet, which then hovered slightly off the platform. The entire hall began to shake and the chandeliers swayed from side-to-side. Great cracks formed in the rune tablet where light rays escaped to illuminate the hall.

Cyesko stepped back several paces and scanned the hall for a place to take cover should something go awry. Chingus let out a low moan that quickly escalated into loud shriek of pure pleasure. Chingus pupils rolled up into their sockets, and its mouth went slack. When Cyesko saw this expression it was confirmation to him that Chingus would not explode and that the giant worm was pleased with his rune. Cyesko smiled when he realized that a mass Ichor weaning would soon follow.

_SHIELD WALLS & SPEAR WIVES_

Nothingness. Nothing upon nothing was what Cyesko was stranded in. He had been floating through this void for an eternity it seemed. Slowly but surely, tiny points of light opted into existence, billions of them far off in the ether shone forth. After another eternity a blue marble materialized from nowhere. The blue and white orb was orbited by a smaller gray, and pockmarked orb. Cyesko was drawn to the planet, and it grew larger as traveled farther. Soon, he found himself flying through white, fluffy clouds like a meteor. The clouds gave way to vast ocean and a landmass that sprawled out before him as far as he could see. Cyesko saw that he was being pulled toward the tract of land below, and it rushed up to meet him before he could scream.

Cyesko still existed. And he was in the midst of a thick and humid primordial forest. Giant, alien plants stood like sentinels over the wilderness and massive trunks of trees in the forest were so enormous in circumference that he could not see them in their entirety. Everything in this strange land made him feel insignificant. Cyesko wandered for some time, being spooked by the strange calls that echoed through the forest. His attention was drawn to rustling in the underbrush. Several figures emerged from the scrub.

_T-they look like us!_ Cyesko thought, _but they are not dressed like us, and they are larger in stature_ , Cyesko concluded. The figures barely wore any garments, and were emblazoned with bright, multiple-hued colors. The leader of the band was tall and proud, with sharp, red eyes, and a beak that looked like it could crush stone. He held aloft in his hand a glowing rune that gave off bright light to guide them in the thick jungle. Several females carried pinkish-green eggs, that had strange runes that he had never seen before crudely embossed on their surfaces.

"They are the ones! They are the Progenitors!" a voice proclaimed in his head.

"What do you mean? Who are you?" Cyesko asked.

"They made everything happen!" the voice cried out. Cyesko did not understand, and watched as the band of bird people traversed a small stream, passing right by him, but not seeing him. Cyesko marveled at the variety in features of these ancient peoples, and he noticed that they seemed more reptilian than avian, except for the feathers. The tribe seemed to tense up as the water of the stream rippled. There was a distant thunder that seemed to grow louder with each second that passed. The leader let out a strange call that alarmed the rest of his group. The tribe began to run toward the cover of the foliage on other side of the stream.

Just then, the canopy of the trees was forced open and a loud roar thundered through the clearing near the stream. Massive, hungry, reptilian eyes stared down on him and the fleeing tribe. A mouth full of dagger-like teeth roared and hissed with furry. The monster stood at least as tall as some of the trees, and was supported on two, muscular hind legs, while its front legs seemed pathetic and stunted, but those teeth more than made up for it. A long, muscular tail emanated from the rear of the body. The beast broke into a full sprint, heading straight for the tribe.

"Hurry! Run faster!" Cyesko cried, but they could not hear him. The tribe disappeared into the underbrush, but that did not foil the huge monster that chased them. Cyesko rushed off after the tribe. Finally, he caught up to them in time to witness a hen holding a runic egg, who had stopped, petrified with fear. The gigantic lizard-beast let out a mighty roar, and then in one quick snatch with its jaws, the hen was violently jerked off the ground. The beast tossed her body up into the air only to catch it once more, jerking it to and fro. The powerful jaws crushed the frail body of the hen, but still the beast was not satiated. It stalked other members of the tribe who couldn't seem to run fast enough.

Just as the beast was about to claim more members of the tribe, another huge reptilian brute appeared from the opposite direction through the trees. This caught the attention of the first beast, and they assumed threatening postures to intimidate one another. Each let out loud, shrill roars that nearly made his ear-holes bleed. However, in that moment, the leader of the tribe took this momentary distraction as an opportunity to save his people. A blinding flash of light was unleashed which made Cyesko shield his eyes. The two towering creatures were mesmerized for a moment, and then the flash dissipated, and the tribe was nowhere to be found. With the prey creatures gone the two beasts attacked one another violently, and jaws snapped and bit deep into flesh. As the beasts fought each other, Cyesko noticed a small hole in the hillside.

"Yes, that is where the Progenitors have gone," the voice said. He ran for the hole, which was only large enough for him to crawl through. Cyesko struggled to wriggle his way through the tunnel.

"The Progenitors have endured here in this land for millennia, but just barely. They seek a way out. They are hounded daily by the Gods and are picked off one-by-one," the voice explained. At last, he emerged from the hole into a rocky chamber lit from the glowing rune held by the tribal leader. The frightened members of the tribe huddled around him. A ruffled, old, lizard-bird approached the tribal leader, followed by an old crone who wore a headdress and primitive trinkets. The three conversed in some strange language that Cyesko did not understand. They appeared to come to some agreement, and then they made the announcement of their decision to the rest of the tribe. All the members of the tribe rejoiced and chanted names he had never heard before.

The tribal elders concentrated on the rune held by the leader, and then the rune hovered in the air through some magic. The rune seemed to grow in size, and when its shape changed, it became that of a loop of pure energy, like a picture from the cosmos.

"The tribal elders have created a wormhole, a tunnel through creation itself," the voice told him.

"I don't understand!" Cyesko said helplessly.

"You will..." the voice said. Suddenly he felt himself being transported to another place. There was a flash of light and then he witnessed what looked like the tribe he had seen previously, and they walked single file inside a tunnel, except, it wasn't a tunnel, it was more like a turbulent, rolling tube made of metaphysical silk. The texture of the silk was liquid and solid at once, and he thought he could see a familiar spiral coursing through the blue-black walls. The tribe seemed to be smaller in stature now, and they had lost color in their feathers, which were more neutral tones and shades now. The people also had significantly less feathers covering their bodies.

"W-where is this?" Cyesko asked in confusion.

"This is the Hub of Infinite Wormholes. Hundreds of years have passed since this tribe had left their old home. Many generations have lived and died in these passages. Now they wander this place searching for an outlet,"

"What are they picking off the walls of the wormhole?" Cyesko asked.

"They are not alone here. Over the span of existence there have been other organisms that have found their way into wormholes to become trapped here. These creatures have evolved ways to live and thrive in this strange environment. The Broxa have as well. They feed off the tiny creatures they collect here, and they utilize others to produce goods," the voice stated.

"Amazing! They have adapted to these wormholes!" Cyesko exclaimed.

"Look at those small worms they pick out of the crevasses of the wall, do you notice anything about them?" the voice asked.

"Well, they remind me of smaller versions of Olgoikhorkians. W-what are they doing with them?" Cyesko asked, while he watched various tribal members placing the tiny worms onto clay tablets bearing runes.

"The worms evolved to feed off the energy of the universe, but it was not very efficient and they were only able to harvest small amounts of the energy. The Broxa have developed a taste for the sweet liquid the worms secrete, so they feed the creatures runes, which are a more concentrated form of energy," the voice said.

"You don't mean..." Before Cyesko could finish his sentence he was transported to another place and time in an instant. Cyesko was still inside a wormhole, and the tribe was still present, but they had grown in number and they were all gathered around one Broxanian male.

"That is legendary hero Stymphalides. You may have heard of him from the epic tales passed down from the Gothi," the voice said.

"Yes, but this event was never mentioned. I am not sure what's happening," Cyesko said in puzzlement. The tribe gathered around the tall, muscular man known as Stymphalides. He placed a rune tablet on the shifting wall of the wormhole, then, he appeared to concentrate deeply. Shortly thereafter a crackling of energy and intense rays of light emanated from where the rune was placed. A great tear in the fabric of the universe formed and he could see a snapshot of another world through the hole that was made. Stymphalides cried out to his people and then he stepped through the breach in the fabric of space and time. The people of his tribe cried out in fear, seemingly because they believed him to have perished, but then some brave individuals started to follow him through. Slowly all members of the tribe filed through the hole.

Another blinding flash of light occurred and Cyesko grew dizzy. He gazed at his surroundings in an effort to figure out where he was now. A great emerald jungle engulfed him and there was a clearing in the distance. Many mounds of earth covered by tall grasses were clustered together in the middle of the clearing. There were smoke trails rising from small holes at the top of the mounds. Cyesko walked closer to the collection of mounds. Many individuals he recognized that looked like himself crisscrossed the village grounds, women carried vessels back and forth between the mounds, children ran about chasing each other, and men tended to crops in the fields, some of which Cyesko recognized to be extinct plants that he had read about in ancient scrolls. Also coming and going from the settlement were Fern Lice dressed in strange garments. Cyesko had never seen anything like it. He had always taken the creatures to be dumb and expendable. They appeared to be trading goods with the Broxanians.

Something in particular caught his eye; there was a large pen set up meters away from the village, made of thatching and clay to form the walls. Cyesko approached the pen to see what kind of creatures it corralled. He peered over the clay and stick wall and his eyes grew wide. Inside there were large worms of many different shapes and colors. These worms writhed this way and that as a Broxanian female scattered clay shards about the ground. Cyesko assumed that they were minor rune configurations. Other women went about milking the mammary glands of some of the larger and more well-endowed worms, collecting the Ichor in vessels. One particular worm being milked seemed to have a sinister smile on its grotesque face.

"I don't understand. We were told that the Masters came to our realm through the wormholes, and raised us Broxanians up to be civilized. The Holy Texts state that—"

"You have been misinformed," the voice said.

Another blinding flash of light impaired Cyesko's vision. But, this time he was transported back to black nothingness where he floated aimlessly.

"Wait! I want to understand more! Don't go!" Cyesko called out, but nothing answered back. Then the darkness took him. The swirling blackness of space seemed to have enveloped him for another eternity. Gradually, the void began to dissipate, and it gave way to a Fern-covered landscape. Cyesko investigated his surroundings and found that it was the same location he had been brought to previously, but things had changed. The primitive earthen mound shelters had been replaced with crude stone structures. But, the fact of the matter remained this was the same Broxanian village he had seen in the past. The only difference that Cyesko could discern was that there were no longer holding pens for Olgoikhorkian worms. Neither did he see any of the Broxanians consuming any Ichor. _Did they kick the habit and learn to live without Ichor?_ Cyesko thought. Cyesko did not know how much time had elapsed since the last time he visited this place.

Many Broxanian villages hurried about on their daily chores, and he noticed the presence of heavily armed Broxanian soldiers. The fighting men were armed with greensteel scale armor, runic short swords, and Fernwood shields that were reinforced by a rune configuration emblazoned on their shields. Cyesko surmised that the runes added an arcane energy field to the strength of the soldier's shield. The Broxanian soldiers had set up a picket line around their village and a thick tension seemed to permeate the air. _I wonder what the soldiers are on the lookout for? They definitely seem ready for battle,_ Cyesko thought. He heard a loud screeching emanating from a grander, central stone structure that seemed to belong to a chief or elder. When the females of the tribe received the call, they rounded up the hatchling and corralled them back to the chief's stone house. When this process was complete the women rushed back out toward their own houses. Cyesko watched as they disappeared into the structures.

"Why did the women leave their young in the chief's house?" Cyesko asked.

"You will soon get your answer," the voice said.

Cyesko was surprised that the strange voice had returned. _If you aren't going to answer my question, why say anything at all?_ Cyesko thought. Suddenly, almost in unison, the doors of the stone house burst open and out poured the Broxanian females, clad in their own scale armor and carrying long, thrusting spears. They moved up to join the picket line the men had formed. Each female paired up with a male as they closed ranks to form a shield wall, backed up with a second line of spear wielding Broxanian females.

"In battle, the female Broxanians were Spear Wives. They fought side-by-side with the men," the voice said.

"They sure don't make them like they used to," Cyesko jested, but it seemed that the humor was lost on the voice.

Cyesko saw that the door to the chief's house had opened, and out walked a tall, muscular Broxanian, that wore distinguished red lacquered, scale armor, and matching helmet. The top of the helmet held a plumage of red feathers. Cyesko thought that the armored figure looked familiar somehow. As the figure drew closer he could see that he was old, almost ancient, with faded, gray feathers. The armor-clad man held a two-handed, runic sword resting upon one shoulder.

"You are correct, that is Stymphalides, although he has aged quite a bit since the last time you laid eyes on him," the voice said.

"He must be at least a thousand years old by now! Look at how their technology has evolved since I last saw the village," Cyesko remarked.

"It is widely believed that certain individuals in this age had a longer lifespan. They generally went on for whatever reason to accomplish great feats. Of course, as you know, Stymphalides was the greatest of these heroes," the voice explained.

Cyesko was about to reply when a clamor erupted from the surrounding forest. There was an otherworldly screeching accompanied by metal-on-metal clanging. A regular rhythm of marching feet from what seemed to be a legion matched the cadence of drums.

"Who is attacking them? Is it a rival tribe?" Cyesko asked.

"No, this is the final fight that will decide the fate of your species," the voice said.

Cyesko watched as Stymphalides, clad in his crimson armor, marched up and down his line, attempting to encourage bravery among his ranks. He struggled along in his old age. Cyesko did not know what to make of this vision he was having. Did this event ever happen? According to the Gothi at the Temple of the Firebird, Stymphalides was just a pagan myth and never existed. Cyesko fancied himself a semi-pious man, but however he processed it, he couldn't argue with the visceral reality he was experiencing currently.

Something caught Cyesko's eye at the tree line: movement. A lone figure emerged from the foliage. The figure was small in stature, and had tiny, flapping wings stretching out from its back. _An Ichor Imp?_ Cyesko thought.

The Imp raised a crude halberd above its head and let out a shriek. Seconds later, the vast horde of Imps scurried out of the underbrush like an insect colony that had been roused to meet a threat. Thousands of them poured out of the forest in an ill-disciplined morass. The Ichor Imps wore armor with a tank built into the backs of each to contain the Ichor supply. The massive swarm of Imps seemed to be leaderless and they whipped themselves up into a fury by banging their helmets together, and increasing their Ichor intake.

A lone Ichor Imp broke off from the pack and rushed headlong at the prepared line of Broxanian warriors. The Imp squealed with delight as if it was certain that he would defeat the entire Broxanian force itself. The Imp raised his dull halberd high over its head and charged forward. Stymphalides stepped out in front of the shield wall and thrust his two-handed sword into the dirt tip first. The frenzied Ichor Imp seemed to home in on Stymphalides and pivoted to charge at him, seemingly keen to conquer the Broxanians by striking down their leader all by himself. The berserk Imp raised his halberd overhead and leapt into the air, coming at Stymphalides like an arrow loosed from a bow, with stunted wings flapping.

"The old coot is going to be killed by an Imp! He probably doesn't even realize he is in danger," Cyesko said.

The voice did not reply. Cyesko wanted to shout to the ancient Broxanian hero, but he stopped himself and observed.

The Imp drove the axe blade of his halberd down with uncanny force. At the last minute, Stymphalides pulled his sword from the ground, and with a quick upstroke of the blade he cleaved the shaft the halberd, the Imp, and its Ichor tank in two distinct halves. The spent chunks of Imp, armor, and weapon fell into a heap in the tall grass.

A symphony of avian songs erupted from the Broxanian shield wall, seemingly celebrating Stymphalides' victory over his adversary.

"You doubt the great Stymphalides. Even in his old age he towered over many Broxa," the voice said.

Cyesko watched as the Ichor Imp horde was whipped into a shrieking frenzy by the sight of their fallen comrade. They surged forward in disunity. Short, fat Imps waddled as fast as they could, and slim, fit Imps dashed rapidly through the meadow. The only consistent factor among the rabble was the fashion of their armament: they all used halberds. Stymphalides fell back to take his place in the shield wall, and the Broxanians braced for the impact of the charge.

A bone-shattering crunch was heard all around the field as the rolling tide of Imps smashed headlong into the line of Broxanians, who dug their heels into the ground. Imps were repulsed by a coordinated push by the warriors in the shield wall. Countless Imps fell back on top of their fellow soldiers helplessly. The Imps that hung onto the shields of the Broxanian warriors were dispatched by sword, dagger, and by the spears of the Broxanian females.

Still more Imps poured onto the shield wall, using their agility to climb the shields themselves. Some cleared the whole formation of Broxanians to land behind them. Spear Wives peeled off from the main body to engage the enemy that threatened the rear of the line. One particular behemoth of a hen used her spear to impale several Ichor Imps with one thrust. She let out an avian shriek of bloodlust as she pushed the limp bodies from her spear shaft with her foot.

Meanwhile, Imps continued their relentless assault on the Broxanian shield wall. A massive Imp grabbed an unfortunate Broxanian warrior, who fell out of rank. The young Broxanian soldier tried to fight his way back into the line with terror-filled eyes. He slew a few Imps before his sword was wrenched from his hand by a number of Imps. The young Broxanian's comrade, and older cock, rushed out of line, incensed that the younger soldier had been seized. The Broxanian tore into the Impish horde with a rage possessed. He dispatched imp-after-imp with his bare hands in an attempt to rescue his young brother-in-arms. But, the Broxanian's brute strength was not enough to save him, as he was pierced in the back of the leg and under the arm with the end spikes of impish halberds driven deep. The old Broxanian fell to his knees, and then soon both he and the younger soldier disappeared in a sea of raging Imps.

Ichor Imps began to pour through the small gap that had opened in the Broxanian line. Spear wives thrust at the Imps with their weapons in an attempt to keep them at bay. Then, Stymphalides himself moved to the gap, and with his two-handed sword cleaved numerous Imps in half. He performed wide swings, reaping Imps like a scythe to a wheat field. Soon, the gap in the Broxanian line had been filled once more and they locked shields together. Stymphalides retreated to the rear of the line to help the Spear Wives with the Ichor Imps that had attacked the rear, but when he got there he saw that the attack had been repulsed by the Wives.

The Ichor Imp horde had been given pause by the high casualties they had suffered while assaulting the Broxanian shield wall. Countless Impish faces hissed and heckled the Broxanians as cowards, hiding behind their shields instead of fighting like wild beasts. The mocking did not affect the Broxanian resolve to retain cohesion, but the Broxanians were tiring from having held their position, clad in armor and brandishing their weapons.

"The Ichor Imp horde seems to have thinned out. Something is up!" Cyesko said.

"Very astute. You are correct," the voice said.

At that moment, a symphony of Impish battle shrieks was heard from behind as countless Ichor Imps crawled down the cliff side that the Broxanian village was butted up against. The spectacle of Imps scurrying down the rock face was like a great insect plague coming for them.

Upon seeing this, Stymphalides barked out some order in an ancient language that Cyesko did not understand. The soldiers of the shield wall shouted in unison, apparently in confirmation of the order, and then they performed a maneuver where the troop formation made a circle, so that none of their flanks were exposed.

"What are they doing? They are surrounded now. They should have retreated!" Cyesko yelled.

"Where would they retreat to? This is their home," the voice said.

"They don't have to stay here..." Cyesko trailed off when he saw that the Broxanian formation was hit from all sides all at once. The shrieking, shouting, and metal-on-metal clanging filled the air. The wholesale slaughter of Ichor Imps began once more, as the suicidal recklessness of the Imps only intensified. Cyesko realized that the Ichor Imps were cannon fodder. The Masters had always used the Imps as cannon fodder, and in battle it was no different.

The relentless assault gradually wore down the defenders. Several Broxanians were plucked out of the circle by their assailants. The defensive circle grew smaller. Now Stymphalides joined the fight on the perimeter of the circle, slashing and thrusting at Imps. Piles of Imp carcasses lay in great heaps around the formation. On one side of the circle the Ichor Imps climbed on top of one another to form a great tower of the creatures. The living tower teetered and swayed, then from what Cyesko could tell, the tower was allowed to collapse on top of defending Broxanians. Ichor Imps were flung into the air as Broxanian soldiers pushed with their shield to escape the biomass.

The fighting was all mixed up now. Broxanians fought tooth and nail for survival as they were set upon by thousands of Imps. Stymphalides slew scores of Ichor Imps himself, but even he was wearing thin. The Imps grouped for one last push to overwhelm the Broxanians when a great blaring horn sounded from the tree canopy above. The Ichor Imps looked skyward to find the source of the clamor, but as they did a thick hail of spears and arrows showered down on the Impish horde. The many projectiles pierced flesh and Ichor tanks. Imps were killed by injury from spears or they suffocated from the compromised tanks on their backs.

Cyesko looked up to the tree canopy and saw white blurs coursing through the branches and down Fern trunks. Fern Lice braves rushed down and engaged Ichor Imps from all sides. Stymphalides and the Broxanian soldiers took advantage of the confusion and mounted a counter attack, which further caused chaos in the ranks of the Ichor Imp ranks. Stymphalides let out a rousing cry and surged forth, slaying Imps with a primal determination. When the other Broxanians saw this they formed up to create a wedge formation, and they fought toward the edge of the horde with the aim of breaking out.

"They are going to make it! The Fern Lice attack has turned the tide of the battle," Cyesko said. He couldn't help but ball his fists in suspense in anticipation of the outcome of battle.

"We have not witnessed the entire event, yet," the voice said.

Cyesko turned his attention to the routing of the Ichor Imps. They had been hemmed in between the Broxanian warriors and the Fern Lice braves; bunched up and panicked, many died from being trampled underfoot or crushed by the mass of bodies. The Broxanian vanguard had at last fought its way free from the middle of the horde, and now the Ichor Imp lines were split in two. Stymphalides stood in the clearing, bloodied, exhausted and panting heavily. Fern Lice braves pursued the fleeing Ichor Imps, striking down many as they scampered away.

"I don't understand why you are showing me this battle. It seems that it was just another Broxanian victory," Cyesko said. He did not get an answer. Cyesko's attention was grabbed by events on the battlefield once more when a great quake tore through the forest and the meadow where the battle raged. The tree canopy trembled in the distance. Cyesko could see that entire Ferns were pushed down as if they were twigs. He watched Stymphalides and his exhausted soldiers glance around in confusion. A great clamor arose from their ranks as they argued about what the disturbance could be.

Finally, the tree line was torn open like a predator tearing the skin of a prey carcass. Great giants lumbered forth and thick trunks of legs crushed the felled trees and bodies as they surged into the meadow. Cyesko counted five behemoths when they all had formed up in one line.

"I would know that oily texture anywhere: those are Rune Golems, forged from cosmic clay and powered by a rune configuration. How did they make so many at once?" Cyesko asked. He could not believe what he was seeing.

"Cosmic Clay deposits were plentiful during this age and scribes used ancient methods lost to time to create these potent Rune Golems," the voice said.

Cyesko watched as a lull in the action settled over the battlefield. The Rune Golems stood silently like monumental statues, and the Ichor Imps had halted their retreat when they saw that the Broxanian and Fern Lice forces broke off the pursuit to reform their lines. There was a flurry of activity from behind the Rune Golems. Numerous well-armored and equipped Ichor Imps labored to pull a wheeled platform through the path that the Rune Golems had cleared in the forest.

"There's a Olgoikhorkian Master on the platform!" Cyesko remarked. The Master was probably the ugliest Olgoikhorkian Cyesko had ever seen. It was a bloated purple monstrosity with one eye and massive, pink lips. Jagged teeth protruded from under its upper lip. The Master was also missing one hand.

"That is not just _an_ Olgoikhorkian Master, it is _the_ Olgoikhorkian Master. That is Ptungus, the first Great King of the Olgoikhorkians," the voice said.

The Ichor Imps brought the platform to a halt in front of the Rune Golems, which stood still and silent. The Broxanian soldiers and Spear Wives struggled to reform their line and looked to be on the verge of panic. Stymphalides yelled out some seemingly encouraging words to steady his force, and then they stood waiting to hear what the Master had to say. Ptungus bellowed strange words from powerful lungs that Cyesko did not understand, but judging by the tone and the Broxanians' reactions, he concluded that it was a surrender ultimatum.

The Broxanians jeered and cursed Ptungus, which enraged it. The behemoth Olgoikhorkian barked out some command to the battered Ichor Imp horde and to the line of Rune Golems. _I suppose this means for Ptungus's forces to attack,_ Cyesko thought. The Rune Golems lumbered toward the Broxanian line with ominous, rumbling steps. Stymphalides seemed to wear an expression of defeat on his face briefly, but then he summoned up steely resolve to continue the fight. Stymphalides brought his runic great sword to the ready. The Broxanian soldiers and Spear Wives followed suit by reforming the shield wall. The Fern Lice formed up on the flanks of the Broxanian line when they realized that the Ichor Imp horde was preparing to attack from both sides, being emboldened by Ptungus's presence.

A line of Fern Louse Skirmishers loosed many arrows and javelins at the charging Rune Golems. The many projectiles found their marks and bit into the clay bodies of the golems. The first Rune Golem smashed into the Broxanian line, looking like a pincushion. The soldiers of the shield wall on the left were sent careening backward like rag dolls. The second rank of Spear Wives engaged the Rune Golem with their long spears. Countless spear points sank deep into the red clay torso, and the Golem did not seem to notice much. Many male Broxanians recovered from the first attack and joined in on the assault on the Rune Golem on the left flank.

At that moment the rest of the Rune Golem collided with the Broxanian shield wall, which buckled and became fragmented as the soldiers were trampled underfoot by the giants. The largest of the Rune Golems, a gray titan with a yellow rune shining on its face attacked Stymphalides, who dodged a downward strike from the Golem's massive fist. With a great overhand swing of his two-handed sword, Stymphalides severed the thick arm of the Rune Golem. Stymphalides seemed shocked that the Rune Golem barely noticed its dismembered arm. It grabbed Stymphalides with its other arm by the waist, and hoisted him off the ground. Stymphalides stabbed at the arm that held him with his sword. With great force, the gray Rune Golem slammed Stymphalides into the ground. A loud thud occurred and his cuirass buckled from the impact. Stymphalides laid still.

The Rune Golems had made short work of the Broxanian formation, and when the Spear Wives had seen that their leader had fallen, they unleashed a somber cry. Everywhere around the battlefield the situation was the same; the Fern Lice were being overwhelmed on the flanks and the Broxanians had been routed. When seeing this, Ptungus seemed to offer for the Broxanians and Fern Lice a chance to surrender. The terrified and battered remnants of the allied force soon saw no other alternative, and so they began to throw down their arms in a pile in the middle of the battlefield. Ptungus watched the events with a wide toothy smile.

"I had no idea that this event had happened," Cyesko said.

"This is the start of Broxanian bondage at the hands of the Masters. Prior to this the Broxanians were free, but the Ichor was too much of a temptation for them, and so they paid the price," the voice said.

Cyesko could see that his view of the battlefield started to fade. The forms of the armies and the Rune Golems gave way to total darkness. Cyesko became distraught as he wanted to see what happened next.

"Wait! I still have so many questions. Please!" He called out to the voice, but the voice didn't answer. Soon, all went dark and Cyesko lost consciousness.

༅༅༅

Cyesko was jarred awake from his restless slumber. He shot upright and his gaze darted about the hall as if to make sure of his location. He found that he was lying on a sofa and he was covered in fired Ichor. His head raged with a painful migraine. He wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve. _What was that dream I was having? What could it possibly mean? Maybe I should cut down on my Ichor consumption?_ Cyesko thought.

When he looked around the hall he saw that the rest of the rune-scribes were all slumbering, coated with a glistening sheen of Ichor. Many snored loudly. Chingus itself was also sleeping soundly, and as it breathed, its titanic blubber shuddered and quaked. _I need to go home. I must contemplate what my dream means,_ he thought. Cyesko picked himself up off the sofa and then almost collapsed due to lack of strength. He supported himself on the back of the sofa, and then planted his cane firmly on the floor as he slowly hobbled to the front gate of the palace. Cyesko would slowly make his way home this lunar cycle.

_LACTATING CONTEST_

Chingus knew that this solar rotation would belong to it. It had ordered a great curtain to be rigged on top of the platform rickshaw that transported Chingus as to obscure its form. Chingus wanted to surprise the other Masters. Melchior and the Ichor Imps had labored with great difficulty to get Chingus to the Lactator-General's palace, and at long last they had reached their destination. Chingus had called an Assembly of the Masters to assess the rank of the Masters, and it was certain that Chingus would gain in status.

Delachior, the Lactator-General's head Ichor Imp, appeared at the rear entrance to the palace. Chingus could see his form through the thin fabric of the veil.

"What the hell is the holdup, Chingus? You called this assembly and you were the last one to show! Dingus and the rest of the Masters are furious. You best get in there," Delachior growled.

"Relax, Delachior. I wanted to make sure all the Masters were present so that none would miss my announcement," Chingus said with confidence.

"Yeah, well, it better be good, seeing as how you are one of the lowest ranking Masters..." Delachior trailed off as Chingus's Ichor Imps pulled his massive platform up the ramp and into the palace's great hall. When Chingus's huge platform was hauled into place at one end of the great hall, every Master in attendance was silent. Chingus could tell through the fabric that all eyes were on it and its queer, veiled platform. A murmuring and laughter emanated from some in the assembly.

"The Suckler Magistrate is scared to show its face in the great hall!" one Master bellowed.

"What a waste of time, summoning us here!" another cried out. The murmurs erupted into heckles and shouts, but Chingus sat silently behind the veil with a smile on its face.

"What is the meaning of this farce, Chingus? You better have a good answer!" Dingus, the Lactator-General barked. Chingus could only distinguish its outline through the veil, but it knew that Dingus was furious, spasming with anger.

"Great Lactator-General, Dingus, I have called an assembly of the Masters for good reason. I apologize for not showing myself, but..." Chingus trailed off, and in that minute its Ichor Imps pulled the veils open to reveal Chingus. There were sharp gasps that arose out from the crowd. Spirited jeers nearly drowned out what Chingus was saying.

"...But, I did not want to shock any of you with the size of my Ichor glands. As you can see, I believe it is time to assess rank among the Masters!" Chingus declared. Its size had increased by almost a third since the Masters had seen Chingus last, and its Ichor glands were swollen and heaving with the liquid. Chingus was dressed in all its finery and made-up quite heavily in the face. Dingus stared at Chingus intently, and it returned the gaze.

"Impressive, Chingus. Well, one thing is for certain, you will not take the title of Lactator-General today," Dingus remarked with a scowl.

"How is this possible, that you have grown so large in such a short amount of time? I demand to know!" the Nurser Tribune of the East-end, Lungus, cried out in shock. The pinkish-green folds of flesh gyrated violently as it protested. Chingus let out a hardy laugh.

"I grew this large like all other respectable Masters present here have, by working hard and selecting only the most talented rune-scribes to employ. This should be no surprise. At any rate, I demand a rank evaluation, now," Chingus said.

"You have that right," Dingus responded. Without having to be told, each group of Ichor Imps moved to procure measuring tools from trunks mounted on the rear of each of the Masters' platforms. The Imps moved from gland to gland to painstakingly record the width and girth of each one. Chingus looked down fondly on Melchior and two Imps with the tape stretched between them proceeded to measure. Soon, all of the Ichor Imp teams had finished their tasks and representatives from all of the Masters brought up the tallies to Delachior, who analyzed each tablet.

The hall was silent as Chingus imagined that all Masters present were wracked with nervousness over the possibility that they could lose their posts. It delighted at these realizations. Chingus watched as Delachior climbed a ladder put in place so that he could converse with Dingus privately. He climbed to a great height as to reach Dingus, then, he whispered into the Lactator-General's ear. Chingus watched as the Lactator-General's eyes grew wide as the results were fed to him. Delachior climbed down off the ladder, and there was an empty silence for a moment.

"I have the results of the evaluation. All Masters will retain their posts..." Dingus trailed off. There was a chorus of relieved sighs that rose out of the audience.

"...Except...Lungus, the Nurser Tribune will be demoted—"

"What? What do you mean I will be demoted?" Lungus shouted in anger. It was getting ready to shout more but Dingus glared at it with fury in its eyes, and so even Lungus seemed know what that meant. It desisted.

"As I was saying, Lungus will be demoted to Suckler Magistrate, and Chingus shall be raised up to the post of Nurser Tribune. My judgement is final and any other outbursts will be punishable by deglanding!" Dingus proclaimed. Chingus smiled widely as its plan had come to fruition. _Oh, you just wait, Dingus. You may look like you are close to fragmentation, but I will catch up to your size, and take your post when you least expect it,_ Chingus thought. It watched as Dingus's Ichor Imps rushed about the great hall to make the results official.

_CONCEALED AMBITION_

Cyesko was worried. He did not know why he had been summoned to Chingus's palace on such short notice. Did the Lactator-General find Tialina Syntroniphus, and did she rat him out as a fraud? Did one of Cyesko's runes have a side effect that caused Chingus harm or discomfort? Every scenario that came to Cyesko's mind seemed to have a negative outcome. Why was he so paranoid? Was it lack of sleep, or his Ichor addiction? Ever since he had experienced that vivid Ichor dream during the Mass Weaning he had been feeling an increased sense of dread, like everything he knew was wrong. Of course, everything _would be_ wrong if his vision was right.

_Silly Cyesko, you need to calm down. It is natural to feel uneasy when success happens so quickly. It is not unheard of,_ he thought. Cyesko had reached the front gate of the Nurser Tribune's palace, and he rang the rune bell for entry. Soon, Melchior came scurrying up to the gate to let him in.

"Chingus is very anxious to have a word with you, Cyesko! Better get in there," Melchior said. Even he seemed nervous, which was out of the ordinary. Cyesko hurried through the gate and into the corridor leading to the central hall. _There shouldn't be any reason for Chingus to be angry, after all, it was just promoted because it had been consuming my rune configurations. I am sure Chingus has invited me here to lump praises upon me. Yeah, that's it!_ he thought.

"Cyesko, my dear, sweet, rune-scribe, just take a look at my magnificent bosoms! Your runes have been such a boon," Chingus cried as it noticed Cyesko enter the hall. Cyesko grinned like it was his Hatching Day.

"Great Nurser Tribune, Chingus, your teats look so inviting being the bounty of Ichor that they are. No other Master has glands that can compare to your set. And I—"

"Alright, enough! I am well aware what my glands are. I don't need to be reminded," Chingus muttered. Cyesko was taken aback by the rebuffing.

"Apologies, Chingus, I did not mean to suggest that you do not know the value of your own—"

"Quiet! Just shut up! I summoned you here because I need more of those runes that you have been producing! I need a rune of special power," Chingus proclaimed.

"How powerful are we talking about here?" Cyesko asked nervously.

"Quite so. Powerful enough to not only allow me to grow so large as to be able to procreate through fragmentation, but also to usurp Dingus's title, Lactator-General!" Chingus divulged.

"B-but, Chingus, have you seen the size of the Lactator-General?"

"I don't wean you so that you can whine about challenges. I give you the best Ichor so that you can make the impossible possible. But, if you do not think that you are up to the task there are thousands of slum-dwellers that would enjoy your carcass added to a tin of Fern Louse meat. They wouldn't be able to tell the difference," Chingus said.

"I-I will try to do it, but I need more time than you have been giving me. That level of quality would take research and production time—"

"Fine. Bloody ingrates, I provide such fine Ichor for their consumption and all I get is complaints in return when I ask for a simple task to be done. Very well, Cyesko, you have more time. But, you have until Dingus's fragment-child is born and that will be in three solar cycles," Chingus said.

"Three solar cycles, Cyesko! That's all you have, three solar cycles!" Melchior, the Imp, parroted Chingus with great enthusiasm.

"Shut up, Imp! I'll have your Ichor tank destroyed if you speak out of turn again!" Chingus barked. The Imp shrank back with fright at Chingus's words. Cyesko took this as his cue to leave. He offered a slight bow to Chingus, and then turned to leave the central hall of the palace.

༅༅༅

He quickly drank an entire vial of Ichor while he rode in the rickshaw back to the West-end Suites. Cyesko's head spun as he peered out into the crowded streets while ragged Broxanians hurried this way and that. The junk scavengers were out in force today; the people in this unfortunate class scoured the sewers, burn pits, and rubbish dumps for scraps of greensteel or cosmic clay that they would slowly bundle and then they would sell it to a middle-man for small portions of Ichor. _It could be worse, I could be one of those poor bastards, toiling in the pits and back allies. Face it, Cyesko, you have it good,_ he thought. As much as he tried to reassure himself that everything would be okay, the deeper he sank into melancholy.

As he spaced out among the masses of scavengers and beggars on the streets a familiar face caught his eye. _It's her! I can't let her notice me!_ he thought. Immediately Cyesko removed his hat from his head and covered part of his face, then hunched down a bit as the rickshaw passed her. _It has to be Tialina. But what is she doing in this part of town?_ Cyesko thought. When he was sure enough distance had passed between them he sat upright and replaced his hat on his head.

_I think I'm being paranoid. There is no way that was her. How could she defeat a Rune Golem? After all, it was right on her heels._ Cyesko told himself. The rickshaw carried him onward.

༅༅༅

He was seated at his desk, slouching quite a bit. He let out an exasperated sigh, and then drank from his vial of Ichor once more. The worries had all come back and piled one-by-one in his mind until it became a mental rubbish dump. As much as he tried to concentrate on rune scribing he could not. All he could do was fall victim to neurotic thoughts of failure.

_I have exhausted all ideas, and I cannot not find any more leads in her notes. Maybe I should search for Tialina, after all? But, there has to be something else? How could she have created such a powerful rune with just those notes? I must be missing something,_ Cyesko thought. He stood up and paced the room. Every lap, he would stare at the trunk he had taken from Tialina's coop, as if to will something new into its contents that he could use. Finally, he stormed over to the chest and threw the lid open. Cyesko plunged his hands into the pile of scrolls and tossed many of them into the air. Scrolls rained down on the floor of the lounge all around him.

_There has to be something I missed. Anything?_ Cyesko thought. He sank down and sat with his back against the trunk. He buried his head between his knees and whimpered. Cyesko resigned himself to his grim fate: his body would be reduced to a fine mulch among all the Fern Lice meat. As he sat motionless, some humming sound crept into his ear-holes. _What could that be? It's coming from the trunk,_ Cyesko thought. He turned to look inside the trunk but it was empty so he leaned in closer and the hum got louder. _It's coming from the wall of the trunk. Could it be a secret compartment?_ He thought. Cyesko knocked on the inner-side of each wall of the trunk. Each side seemed solid to him, but the droning sound still persisted.

_I must find the source of that sound!_ He thought. Cyesko reached for a clay-cutting tool and thrust it into the lining of the trunk, tearing it violently. He found nothing. Cyesko stabbed and slashed at the remaining lining until only the bare wood and metal frame was visible. Cyesko pounded on the bottom of the trunk. _It's hollow! There's something in there!_ Cyesko struggled to find a surface to grip on the wood panel. Finally, he found a lip on the bottom and pulled it up, then he pushed down on one end, and suddenly he heard a click. The panel gave way and he lifted it up. An intense light shone from below and he shaded his eyes to get a better view.

Cyesko reached down and clutched the objects resting in the compartment, and then he studied them. _Two rune tablets, and from what I can tell these configurations must be powerful. I must get to work right away!_ Cyesko thought. He left the second clay tablet in the trunk and closed the top for safekeeping, then, he rushed the first tablet over to his desk so that he could forge a new rune configuration with his borrowed source material.

_THE INVESTIGATION_

"The pain! The pain is intolerable! It's like I am being torn in two!" Dingus shrieked.

"But, boss, you _are_ being torn in two. You are fragmenting!" Delachior said.

"Of course I am, you gnat! You don't have to remind me," Dingus barked out in anger. Delachior took the hint and refrained from speaking further. Dingus let out a low moan and a segment around the midpoint of its massive body made a tearing sound. A puss-like substance was expelled from the wound that was formed. Delachior turned around and muttered an order in the Impish tongue that sounded like two rusted pieces of metal being scraped against one another. In a flash, the Ichor Imps had brought out mobile tanks equipped with suction hoses. They also brought mops, buckets and other supplies to clean up the viscous liquid that had been secreted due to the fragmentation process. The Imps slipped and slid clumsily as they tried their best to clean the puss, but for all their best efforts the torrent did not subside.

"Dingus, your Greatness, I have news for you—"

"It can wait, can't you see that I'm in labor?" Dingus complained.

"I think that you need to hear this. It's about the disturbance!" Delachior said.

"Fine, let us hear it and then leave me be!" Dingus growled.

"Yes, of course. Dingus, your Rune Golem has been located—"

"Oh my! That is great news—" Dingus muttered and then cringed in pain. Delachior hesitated to finish his sentence for a moment.

"Well...It is not entirely great news. The Rune Golem has been destroyed, caught in a bleaching event in the middle of the Great Fern Jungle," Delachior reported. Dingus still grimaced and Delachior could not tell if it was from fragmentation pain, anger, or both.

"What in the name of the World Worm was the Rune Golem doing beyond the barrier? There is no way that any fugitive could have made it out of Futharkia?" Dingus asked, while squirming in discomfort. More pinkish puss cascaded down from the tearing flesh, as the second half Dingus's body struggled to become a separate entity.

"I do not know, Greatness."

"Fool! Did it find the source of the runic disturbance? Was there any clue what it was after?"

"No, only that it was surrounded by a whole tribe of petrified Fern Lice. The Rune Golem was pierced by many of their spears. It seemed that they were attacking the Golem," Delachior said.

"Send out all the Imps! Have them interrogate each Master! I want to know if any of them have found the source of the disturbance. Make sure you and your Imps do not come back without answers,"

"Yes, Great One, we will not fail you." Delachior gave a bow, and then wasted no time turning to the Imps that had attempted cleaning up the mess and now were covered with puss, and ordered them to accompany him on his investigatory mission. The Ichor Imps marched toward the door with the cries and moans of Dingus in the throes of fragmentation echoing through the halls.

༅༅༅

The cadre of Ichor Imps had boldly marched into many of the Olgoikhorkian Master's palaces. They conducted interrogations of Masters in the name of the Lactator-General. Some Masters had been cooperative and others incredulous, but Delachior and his lackeys had yet to uncover anything of interest to his investigation. The width and breadth of the runic layout of Futharkia had been covered save for the Lower Descender and the West-end. Delachior now led his Imp brethren toward the Nurser Tribune, Chingus's palace. Delachior had never trusted the lowly, and envious Chingus. He was sure that he would find incriminating evidence in this inquiry.

"Open this gate, by the order of the Lactator-General! We have questions for the Nurser Tribune!" Delachior yelled. He stood with his arms folded awaiting a response from within.

"Yeah, yeah! I'm coming. Keep you Ichor tank on!" a voice cried out from inside. Soon, an Ichor Imp approached the gate. Delachior recognized the Imp as Melchior, the servant of Chingus.

"By order of the Lactator—"

"Yeah, I heard you!" Melchior struggled with the lock on the gate. Delachior speculated that it was intentional to irritate him.

"Yes, well, we have questions for Chingus that must be answered post-haste." Delachior followed behind Melchior who led the Imps back toward the entrance to the central hall.

"I assure you that you are probably not going to find anything here. In fact, you are probably wasting your time. Chingus is an upstanding member of the Master class,"

"I highly doubt that. You have not witnessed anything amiss around Chingus's court? Chingus has grown unusually large for such a lowly rank of Master in such a short time."

"Well...now that you mention it, there is one rune-scribe that Chingus recently employed that has seemed to make all the difference. I mean this Broxa was nothing several solar cycles ago."

"Very strange indeed," Delachior agreed. The group of Ichor Imps passed through the massive greensteel double-doors and into the central hall of the palace. Delachior noticed that Melchior watched him closely as Delachior took stock of the spectacle in the hall. Chingus was resting upon a golden platform while being milked by a collection of suction tanks. Chingus appeared to be asleep or in a trance-like state.

"How has Chingus reached this massive size? It is almost as big as the Lactator-General. Dingus will be furious!" Delachior asked Melchior.

"I reached such a size through hard work and determination. I also carefully select my rune-scribes for their talent and ability," Chingus said, roused from its slumber.

"But, Melchior told me that only one rune-scribe was responsible for supplying you with such powerful runes as to allow you to grow at such an accelerated rate," Delachior said. Chingus shot Melchior a look of burning fury. Melchior seemed to turn away in fear.

"Yes, this is true. I found a particularly talented rune-scribe who keeps me well-nourished," Chingus confessed, visibly trembling in anger.

"Right. I would like to speak with this rune-scribe if you wouldn't mind, in the name of Dingus." Delachior said.

"Of course. Melchior please tell Delachior how to get in contact with Cyesko Limariar. Now, if both you will excuse me, I need to be milked in peace!" Chingus muttered. The Ichor Imps took the cue to vacate the central hall as the pumps of the milking tanks hissed and clanged.

༅༅༅

Cyesko hovered over the rune configuration and adjusted his arcane spectacles to magnify his field of vision in order to study the fine calligraphy of the runic inscription. He panned over the anatomy of the rune like it was a young, attractive Broxanian hen's body. He savored every curve and serif. He reached for his Ichor vial and drank deeply. At that moment he had reached an optimal point that every artist strives for: the zone. He reached for his tool and began to work at a blank tablet of clay. He aimed to not only copy Tialina's original rune, but also to add and improve upon it.

Just as he settled into his own personal harmony, it was rudely shattered by a banging on his door. _Who could that be? Why does this always happen at the most inconvenient times?_ Cyesko thought. He struggled to put away Tialina's runes due to his Ichor intoxication. He dumped all his wares into the trunk, closed it, and then pushed it underneath his desk. Cyesko limped over to the front door to his suite as the banging persisted.

Cyesko was surprised to find three Ichor Imps standing before him. The Imp in the middle wore a golden Ichor mask that was encrusted with precious stones, and a greensteel hose that ran between his mask and the tank on his back. The other two Ichor Imps seemed less imposing to Cyesko. _They must have been the lackeys_ , he thought.

"Yes, may I help you?" Cyesko asked.

"Cyesko Limariar?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Cyesko, my name is Delachior. I am the Chief Ichor Imp to the Lactator-General, Dingus. I am here to ask you some questions. I must warn you that you cannot refuse us, if you do we will dump your corpse into the hoppers at the Fern Lice processing plant."

"Yes, yes! Come in. I can't tell you how many times I have been threatened with that fate. Let's get it over with. I have work to finish," Cyesko said, as he waved them in with a short, jerky motion. He hobbled into the lounge and sank down into a Fern Louse leather chair.

"Well, you have quite the impressive setup in this suite. Fancy!" Delachior remarked.

"Thank you. I went through quite a bit to get to this point but here I am," Cyesko said.

"Indeed, here you are. A heretofore obscure rune-scribe from the Lower Descender coops who sky-rockets to fame suddenly in his twilight years. Your story is almost unbelievable."

"I must admit, yes, it is highly improbable, but nonetheless that is what happened. I was tired of poverty and obscurity so I applied myself to improve my station at long last."

"Cyesko, you appear to be under the influence of quite a bit of Ichor. How can an Ichor addict produce such fine runes of power?" Delachior asked.

Cyesko frowned at his question.

"Imp, what is the purpose of your visit, just to mock my accomplishments with your japes?" Cyesko asked and stood upright.

"Of course not, Cyesko, just relax. I am investigating a powerful disturbance that occurred in the Lower Descender coops several solar cycles ago. Dingus's Rune Golem had been dispatched to track down the source of the disturbance, and witnesses say the Golem had been spotted in your old coop block." Delachior explained.

"How peculiar," Cyesko replied.

"Right, anyway, the Rune Golem was found far outside of Futharkia in the Great Fern Jungle, and it had been destroyed."

"Most unfortunate."

"So Cyesko Limariar, did you have anything to do with that powerful runic disturbance and the destruction of the Rune Golem?" Delachior asked accusatorially.

Cyesko sat back down in his chair. He wanted to tell Delachior all about Tialina Syntroniphus and how she had caused all the carnage. Cyesko had the urge to tell the Imp about the incident in the alleyway, but then he stopped himself. Tialina's runes were the source of his success; if he said anything word would get out that he was a fraud.

"Uh...no...No, I did not have anything to do with the runic disturbance that you speak of." Cyesko stumbled over his answer and he cursed himself for not having his act together. _Damned Ichor, turns my brain to mush,_ he thought.

"Of course you had nothing to do with the disturbance. I hope you will forgive my intrusion then. You understand that I must check out all leads," Delachior said.

"Good luck in your investigation. I hope that you solve it."

"I have a feeling we are getting closer to the truth. Farewell, Cyesko, we will let you get back to your craft." With that said, Delachior barked out some strange utterances in the ancient Impish language. The other two Imps understood and they followed Delachior out the front door. Cyesko secured the lock behind them and then sighed with relief.

༅༅༅

Delachior knew that Cyesko was withholding information. As the Ichor Imps climbed down the front stairwell of the West-end Suites, Delachior ordered one of the Imps to watch Cyesko's suite for suspicious activity, but to stay out of sight. The Imp chirped, clicked and growled a reply back in their ancient tongue to confirm the order, and then it scurried off with stunted wings fluttering without flight. Delachior and his other Imp hired a rickshaw to ferry them back to the Lactator-General's palace.

_SOUR REUNION_

_I suppose it is not surprising that all my stuff has been looted,_ she thought, as she glanced around at the debris and trash that littered her coop. Everything of value had been taken, the furniture had been torn up and smelled of urine, and her food was long gone. But, the only aspect of the looting that affected her was that someone had found her hidden trunk—the trunk that contained her art; her creations.

_Well, I sure hope my possessions went to slum dwellers who needed them more than I did,_ Tialina thought. She went to her closet to search for any clothing that might still remain as her own garments were stained and soiled from her adventure through the Great Fern Forest. Tialina found a tunic and a pair of loose-fitting lunar rotation print trousers. The outfit would be terribly mismatched but she had no other choice. She stripped off her soiled garments and tossed them aside, then, she went about washing herself in the lavatory. When she was done her feathers felt fresh and clean. Tialina got dressed in the clean clothing she had found.

_The old man in the alleyway—the one I ran into—he was the only one who saw me as I was fleeing from the Rune Golem. Perhaps if I find him I could ask him for help? After all, I can't stay here. He must live in the coops somewhere. I mean he wasn't dressed very well-to-do,_ she thought. Tialina gathered up as many useful items as possible and placed them in her pack. This time she did not bother with sneaking out the hole that the Rune Golem had made and she left her coop through the front door.

"So, we've finally found the occupant of this coop. The Lactator-General is keen to meet the one who caused the runic disturbance and destroyed his Rune Golem," an Ichor Imp said, as he jumped out from around the corner, startling Tialina. She shrank back.

"Stay away from me, Imp. I had nothing to do with any of that!" Tialina growled.

"If you are innocent you have nothing to fear. Now, come with me before I have to take more extreme measures," the Imp said. Tialina's scowl turned to a smile.

"Yes, you are right. I have nothing to fear. Lead the way," Tialina said.

"Good, I can't tell you many quarrelsome fugitives I must deal with. It is refreshing to have—" The coughing and gurgling emanating from the Ichor Imp replaced his speech right after Tialina removed the Ichor feed line from the Imp's tank. Immediately, he began to suffocate. After a moment of struggle the Imp dropped to his knees and turned to face her with bulging eyes. With one outstretched hand as if to beg her for help, the Ichor Imp finally fell forward on his face and expired. Tialina wasted no time fleeing the scene.

༅༅༅

She had scoured much of the Lower Descender coops, going door-to-door to find the old man from the alleyway, but all she found were hostile receptions. _I can't keep doing this. I might be killed by the next person who answers their door. Think Tialina, where could I find a complete record of residents in the area. The Temple! I'll ask the Gothi!_ she thought. Tialina rushed through the streets toward the Temple of the Firebird, pushing her way through slow-moving scavengers who balanced loads of scrap on their backs, reeking of Ichor.

Soon she could see the large, flamestone effigy of the Great Firebird perched above the temple of its namesake. Tialina made her way onto the porch of the structure, but she was not sure if the Gothi would be around at this hour or if the doors would be unlocked. Tialina tried to open the great greensteel gilded door, and it gave way with a creaky complaint. She entered the sanctuary and walked down the central aisle toward the pulpit. With each step forward the echoes bounced around the chamber making her feel lonely. _A space such as this was not designed to be totally empty_ , she thought. That fact added to her sense of isolation.

"Welcome child of the Firebird. Do you seek spiritual guidance at this late hour?" a voice called out from somewhere inside the sanctuary. The echo made it difficult for Tialina to locate the source of the voice. Soon, she heard footsteps coming from behind the large, golden Firebird statue that was suspended above the pulpit.

"In a manner of speaking, yes," Tialina said. The Gothi emerged from the shadows, still wearing his priestly garb of robe, cap and staff. _Does he always wear full regalia? Ready to go at all hours?_ she mused.

"Very good! This is why I am here—it is my very purpose. Now, what do you want to confess to the Firebird?" the Gothi asked.

"Actually, I do not have anything to confess, really. More like, I have something to ask you?" Tialina stated. The Gothi rubbed his gray, withered feathers with his taloned hand, with a confused expression on his face.

"Well, what is it I can help you with if you are not here to ask for spiritual purification from the Firebird?" the Gothi asked.

"I am looking for information on a member of your congregation," Tialina said.

"I don't know. I can't just give out information freely. I really have no idea what your intentions are..." the Gothi looked troubled.

"Fear not. I haven't come empty-handed. I have a vial of Ichor to donate to the temple's coffers."

"Oh my...I am sure the Firebird will appreciate your contribution to the Faith. Now, what can I help you with?"

"Well, Gothi, I am looking to contact one of your members. He is an elderly fellow, walks with a cane. He dresses in a utilitarian way, not too flashy. Has some fancy spectacles, like they could be used for rune-scribing."

"Yes, I think I know someone who fits the description, but—"

"—But what?"

"But, he does not attend this Temple anymore."

"D-did he pass away?"

"Oh, no, no, nothing like that. Apparently he was promoted by the Nurser Tribune, Chingus. He's some successful rune-scribe now. Moved up to the West-end Suites."

"Did he now?"

"I hope that helps you out."

"Thank you, Gothi, that helps out quite a bit!"

"You're welcome, my child. Anytime you need guidance of a spiritual nature I am here. The Firebird always appreciates donations," the Gothi said eagerly. Tialina handed the Gothi a vial of Ichor, then turned and walked away down the central aisle.

"I will take your offer under consideration. Goodbye," she said. Tialina pushed her way out the large, heavy front door to exit the temple, glad to leave.

༅༅༅

The pounding woke Cyesko in the middle of the lunar rotation. He shot upright, bleary-eyed and disoriented. _Who could that possibly be now? I swear I must be cursed!_ Cyesko thought. He climbed out of his nest-bed and he wrapped his robe around himself to cover his small clothes. Cyesko rushed down his spiral hallway to the ground floor as the banging on his door continued.

"I'm coming! Keep your trousers on!" Cyesko yelled. He unlatched the locks on the door and jerked the door open. His eyes grew wide when he saw who stood before him.

"Hello, Cyesko Limariar, we have much to talk about." Tialina did not wait for an invitation in and walked passed him into the lounge. Cyesko was speechless and reluctantly followed her into the lounge. She slowly moved around the space, inspecting the various expensive decorations and furniture distributed throughout the lounge.

"My! You have done quite well for yourself, Cyesko. After all, such a talented rune-scribe deserves to be compensated handsomely, right?" Tialina asked.

"T-thank you. I-I have tried to work hard to improve my station—"

"Drop the act, Cyesko. We both know what you did to work your way through the rune-scribe hierarchy. Tell me where my tools and my runes are!" Tialina marched up to Cyesko who took a defensive posture.

"I-I don't know what you are talking about. Why are you even here in the middle of the lunar rotation? You come into my home and accuse me of being a fraud? I ought to go fetch the Ichor Imps!" Cyesko replied seemingly growing bolder by the minute.

"Please! No, don't do it! Look, I have no place else to go and all my possessions have been pillaged. For the love of the Firebird, I even killed one of those Ichor Imps!" she pled.

"Y-you killed an Imp? Well, you can't stay here! You're a criminal. They will think I am in league with you!" Cyesko marched toward the door and began to open it.

"Listen to me! You can't. I need to tell you what is happening! It goes deeper than you think, and the fate of Futharkia might depend upon what you do next!" She cried. Tialina rushed over to Cyesko and grabbed the collar of his robe to make sure he received the message.

"Alright! Calm down and please unhand me. Let us sit in my lounge and you can tell me what is happening," Cyesko said.

He led her back into the lounge and offered her a seat. Tialina wasted no time resuming her story.

"As I was saying, I am an independent rune-scribe, and I happen to possess an innate talent for the craft. One lunar rotation, I completed an especially powerful rune configuration, and when I activated the rune it released a huge amount of stored energy resulting in the event that shook the whole Lower Descender. That is why the Lactator-General sent its Rune Golem after me, because I was producing runes outside the service of a Master," she explained.

"So? What does this have to do with me?" Cyesko asked while handing her a goblet filled with Ichor.

"I'm not finished. I was forced to flee Futharkia. I went beyond the Rune Barrier into the Great Fern Jungle—"

"That's impossible! The Runic Barrier is so powerful—"

"Right, and I had a rune tablet of more power with which I was able to negate the field for an instant to get through. Anyway, like I said, I went out into the forest. I found a terrifying sight: the forest is dying. Large portions are being bleached out of existence."

"What is that?"

"The plant and animal life becomes drained of vitality and color, and is turned white and petrified. A tribe of Fern Lice found me in the forest alone, and led me to shrouded village—"

"What did you say? A tribe of Fern Lice? Preposterous. They are wild animals who only serve one purpose—"

"Have you ever been to the Great Fern Jungle? In fact, for most of your life did you ever leave the Lower Descender?"

"That's irrelevant. I have studied numerous scrolls—"

"I can tell you that is what I saw. I was led to the village and to their Elder Matron, a Louse that was a type of spiritual leader for the tribe. She began to speak to me, but without speaking—with her mind!"

Cyesko let out a hardy laugh. Tialina scowled, seemingly not amused.

"You can't be serious? You must be consuming copious amounts of Ichor!" Cyesko said.

"It's true! I don't understand exactly how she did it, but it is true that the Olgoikhorkian Masters have some sort of mental power. Why is it so hard to believe that certain Fern Lice also have the power?"

"I have studied scroll after scroll about Fern Louse behavior in research for creating new rune configurations. Never did I read anywhere that Fern Lice organized into actual tribes – family groups, yes, but not tribes. If I am wrong, then the rune configurations I created for Chingus would not have been very powerful. Here, let me show you." Cyesko got up from his chair and started up the spiral hallway to reach his study. _Now, where was that rune configuration that used Fern Louse postures as inspiration? Oh, yes, here it is. This will surely impress Tialina_ , he thought. Cyesko picked up the rune tablet and began back down to the bottom level. There, Tialina sat, still sipping on the goblet of Ichor Cyesko had given her.

"As I was telling you, the Elder Matron told me that the Masters' rune consumption was depleting the realm of energy. This was leading to the Great Fern Jungle being bleached and dying," Tialina said. She seemed annoyed that she was not getting a reaction from Cyesko. He took this opportunity to show her the copy of his rune configuration.

"Here, see, this is the rune I was telling you about." Cyesko handed her the tablet and she briefly looked down at it but she seemed preoccupied by her story to give it much notice.

"I understand that you give ancient scrolls credence, but I am telling you they are written on false information. The Olgoikhorkian Masters have fabricated a history of our species and of Futharkia."

"Come again?"

"Our people did not originate here. We are not from Futharkia. We are from another realm. It's tough to explain but, it is the reason why our species is so intimately entwined with rune-scribing. Our ancestors manipulated runic energy to open tunnels through time and space. The Elder Matron called them 'wormholes'. Not only that, but runic energy taken from realms can manipulate braneworlds as well—"

"Easy there. This all sounds mighty far-fetched. I mean what you're saying goes completely against the doctrine of the Temple of the Firebird. Are you telling me that our entire faith is false?" Cyesko asked in annoyance.

"Yes! That is exactly what I'm telling you, that and more. Our entire history is false! Look, the Olgoikhorkians were not from Futharkia either. They were originally tiny parasites that lived inside the wormholes. The Olgoikhorkians fed off the energy of the universe that they could sap directly from the walls of the wormholes, but only in small amounts. This is the reason why they feed on rune configurations, because runes are a physical manifestation of the energy of time and space," Tialina said. She let out a prolonged sigh, and then took another drink of Ichor from the goblet.

"I have to tell you, this is quite a tale. Somehow this all sounds familiar to me, like I heard from somewhere. But, I can't place it," Cyesko said. He watched Tialina as she studied Cyesko's rune tablet in detail. She brought the rune configuration closer to her eye.

"I know this design. I think it's...my head..." Tialina complained. She tried to complete her words.

"Here have more Ichor. You have been through much and should relax,"

"I-I don't drink this much..." she said, but then drank deeply once again. Tialina mumbled something about Cyesko's rune, but it was unintelligible. Shortly thereafter she fell into a deep sleep.

_THE CAGED BIRD_

Its form was so complex that she did not know how it existed at all. She could barely comprehend it. But, nevertheless, it was being created. The rune was scribed through the skillful action of disembodied taloned hands. The serifs, and the calligraphic form of the rune took shape, while above it was a series of clotheslines that hung parallel to one another. The clotheslines each supported silk sheets that billowed lightly in the wind. The sheets blew this way and that but never touched; never overlapped. On the flapping sheets were esoteric pictograms of what looked to her like different worlds. Underneath each pictogram were runic names of these implied worlds.

As the unusually complex rune being scribed by the hands was near completion it glowed and crackled with energy. As the energy flowed from the rune it began to act upon the sheets hanging on the clotheslines. The sheets seemed to resist each other like two polar opposite magnets, but the energy emitted by the rune configuration was so great that it overrode the repelling force. The sheets were brought closer together, and the closer they came, the fiercer the reaction grew. A blinding light shone across the darkness of the realm, and she could barely see anything through it.

Finally, two sheets collided into one another, and a massive explosion ripped through all objects present. The very fabric of reality was torn asunder and Tialina felt her body dissolve into nothingness, and she ceased to be.

༅༅༅

Her eyes sprang open and she drew a deep breath. Tialina laid on her back, that much she knew. She looked straight upward at metal plates converging together at a central point. The plates held curved brass bars in place that all terminated at the center point. _I am still alive. It was just a dream! What the hell did it mean? And, where the hell am I?_ Tialina thought. She looked at her surroundings, and found that she was in a small cage and the bottom was covered in wood shavings. There were two troughs also in the cage, one was filled with Fern Louse patties, and the other contained water.

Tialina reeked of Ichor and her head felt as if it would split in two. _That bastard gave me extremely potent Ichor and turned me in when I passed out!_ She thought. She gazed outside of the cage for anyone or anything, but all she could see were other cages hanging in the darkness. The void seemed to stretch on for eternity. _Have I been imprisoned by the Masters, or is this an organ trader dungeon? I would prefer the Masters to being dismembered for my parts but I guess I don't have a choice in the matter. Call for help, yes, that is what I should do,_ she thought.

"Help! Help me! Anyone? Up here!" Tialina rattled the cage furiously and tried to get to it swing from the chain that suspended it from some mystery ceiling. She pulled violently on the bars and pounded on the food trough. Her rage let up and she was resigned to the fact that her fit was futile. Tialina noticed that there was a metal ladder that was held in place by a chain connected to the bottom of her cage, and all the other cages had ladders that led up to them. She theorized that the floor of the chamber must not be that far down but the darkness did not betray distance.

_What is that? Footsteps? Someone is climbing the ladder,_ she thought. The footsteps grew louder, and soon she could make out an obscured figure coming out of the darkness, climbing up.

"Hey you! Help me out of this cage! Please!" Tialina pled.

"Shut up, prisoner! Stop it with all this racket." The figure growled. She could now see that it was an Ichor Imp and he was armed with a tiny halberd. When the Imp reached the top of the ladder he swung the halberd and it slammed into the bars at the side of the cage, causing a clamor. Tialina flinched backward.

"Please! There's been a misunderstanding, I'm not the one you want! Please, release me!"

"Quiet you! That's not for me to decide. The Lactator-General will want a word with you!" The Ichor Imp hit the side of the cage one more time, and then apparently satisfied he made his point, began back down the ladder to be swallowed by the darkness. Tialina shifted her thoughts to formulating a plan to escape her cage.

༅༅༅

Cyesko was beside himself with joy. He had taken care of the threat of Tialina, who would have surely exposed him. Now, with luck she would be occupying a hundred different Fern Lice meat tins. He sat at his desk and worked at a leisurely pace while lightly sipping fresh Ichor from a vessel. Cyesko had the rune configurations taken from Tialina's trunk on his desk, and he used them as reference in a new rune that he had started to scribe. He had his "runophone" spinning a clay cylinder clad with runic notes that played ancient avian folk songs, recorded some time ago. Indeed, the scene was set for a perfect rune-scribing session.

After several hours of vigorous, but relaxed toil, he had completed a new rune configuration, which was based on Tialina's original. _I suppose now is the time to test my progression as a rune-scribe and activate the rune,_ he thought. Cyesko held his hand over the rune and concentrated on activating the stored energy within. He felt the heat that the clay gave off increase in intensity. When he opened his eyes he had to shield himself from the sunburst of light emanating from the rune. The entire suite shook with fury, and some of the paintings came off the wall one-after-another.

_I have to shut it down!_ Cyesko thought. He focused deeply and soon the rune configuration powered down. Cyesko sank into his chair and sighed. _Well, Cyesko, looks like you have outdone yourself yet again. Chingus will surely be pleased,_ he thought. Cyesko heard shouts and racket from outside. He rushed over to the slatted doors that led out to his balcony and opened them. When he was outside the clamor grew louder, and he looked down over the bannister to see shattered windows and overturned carts. There had also been a rickshaw collision in the middle of the thoroughfare below. _Did I cause all of this mayhem with my rune configuration?_ he wondered. Cyesko was one part terrified and one part exhilarated by the result of his rune's power. In that moment, he concluded that his rune was ready to be presented to Chingus, and so he headed for his bedchamber to get presentable for the occasion.

༅༅༅

She could not sleep with the dull moaning that echoed throughout the dark chamber filled with hanging cages. Tialina did not know where among the cages the injured prisoner was located. She had tried numerous times to both console and command the prisoner to be quiet, but the groaning continued unabated. She did not know if it was currently the solar or lunar rotation. All she cared about now was getting some sleep.

Tialina's stomach roiled, and she looked toward the dried out Fern Lice patties in the trough. Judging by their appearance they were not fresh, and she was afraid to eat one. _Maybe if I visualize new rune configurations in my head I might drift off to sleep?_ she thought. Tialina reclined against some wood shavings piled up against one side of the cage and tried to lose herself in deep thought. She formed a picture of a blank clay tablet in her mind, and with a glowing stylus she set to work scribing a new rune. The structure of the new rune slowly took shape, then, suddenly, a fiery image took over her mind. The rune that appeared boldly in her mind's eye began to twist and warp the fabric of space and time around it. The entire perceived universe was being torn asunder.

Then, she was jarred out of her vision. _Damn! That rune, I must remember it,_ Tialina thought. It was the clanking and clattering of feet upon the rungs of the metal ladder that roused her. She sat upright and waited for the Imp to appear beside her cage.

"Wake your filthy carcass, hen! Wake up!" the Imp barked while pounding his halberd on the side of the cage.

"What now?"

"You are to come with me. Dingus commands it!"

"I'm locked in this cage. I can't go anywhere."

"That's why I am here, to unlock it. Stand back and don't try anything funny or I'll stick you."

"Do not worry, you'll get no trouble from me."

"That's a good hen."

The Ichor Imp fumbled for his keyring from around his belt while trying to hold onto his halberd and balance on the ladder. He thrust the key into the lock and turned, the cage door creaked ajar slightly. It was at that moment that Tialina made her move. She lunged forward with all her might and slammed into the cage door, pushing it outward. The door collided with the Ichor Imp and he plunged into the darkness still holding onto his halberd while stunted wings flapped to no avail. The Imp's high-pitched shriek was only interrupted by the loud crunch from his body impacting against the unseen floor below.

Tialina wasted no time hurrying down the metal ladder to the ground. When she reached the bottom she spied the remains of her jailer. The body had landed face first and was crushed by the Ichor tank that was strapped to its back. Imp blood mixed with Ichor that flowed away from the corpse. Tialina sidestepped the Imp's body and started into a sprint, not knowing which direction to go in order to escape.

"Where do you think you are going?" a voice called out. Tialina stopped in her tracks when she saw a pair of circular eyes floating towards her in the darkness. She turned to run the other way but there was another set of glowing eyes waiting for her there. Every which way she turned were Ichor Imps emerging from the shadows. Now, she was surrounded. The ring of Imps closed tighter around her, and they all presented their halberd points at her, like hunters hounding the prey.

"We have orders to take you to Dingus right away. Do not try to resist or we will run you through!" an Ichor Imp with a jewel encrusted mask screeched. Tialina conceded herself to the Imps, and they marched her off into the darkness.

_THE SKILLED PLAGIARIST_

"There's the proud cock! The Nurser Tribune's top rune-scribe is late again. Do you know how much flack I took because of your tardiness, Cyesko?" Melchior opened the large gate to let Cyesko in.

"As I have told you before, my fine runes take time to produce. Otherwise, you get a substandard rune only worthy of a slum dweller," Cyesko said.

"Cut the crap, Cyesko. We all know that you are a rune forger!" Melchior hissed. Cyesko was caught off-guard by the comment and had no immediate response.

"W-well, first off, I think the word you mean is 'plagiarist', which I am not."

"Whatever you say."

The two of them remained silent as they made their way to the central hall. Cyesko's tension mounted with each step. _Is my life in danger? Should I flee?_ He thought. He contemplated doing so, but then he recomposed himself and he followed Melchior's lead.

The first thing that Cyesko noticed when he entered the central hall was Chingus's fearsome gaze locked on him. Chingus's pupils changed color as its blood seemed to boil. Cyesko shuffled forward reluctantly.

"You! You are a fraud and you left me waiting until the very last minute. As we speak Dingus is in the process of fragmentation. Now you better have one incredibly powerful rune configuration, otherwise it is the end for you!" Chingus growled, while the copious amounts of sweat running down its brow acted upon the eye makeup it wore, causing it to run. Chingus's gargantuan frame quivered with anger. The Ichor Imps in Chingus's service scrambled to set up the Ichor pumps in anticipation of a catastrophic Ichor discharge from all of Chingus's teats after rune consumption. The Imps hissed and clicked at one another in their unpronounceable language. Cyesko hesitated in speaking, one part out of fear and one part in shock from Chingus's massive size.

"Great Chingus, please forgive me. I know I am late but I just wanted to provide you with the highest quality rune I have ever produced—"

"For your sake that better be true. I bet that you have not heard the news: Dingus has found the source of the runic disturbance! It was caused by a rogue rune-scribe; a Broxanian female! And what is worse, you are a known fraud!" Chingus said.

_For the love of the Firebird! I didn't know that the Lactator-General would try to employ Tialina! Damn you, Cyesko, always screwing up! Now they know,_ he thought _._

_"_ Forgive me, Chingus, it is true that I took inspiration from the runes created by the rogue rune-scribe, but I have improved leaps and bounds since that time! All of my rune configurations are now of my own design, and I am a full-fledged rune-scribe!"

"Shut your dirty beak! I have heard enough from you. Now then, hand over the new rune configuration or die," Chingus muttered. Cyesko forced a grin on his face, as he reached into his bag and procured the rune tablet. Melchior rushed over and snatched it out of his hand, and then he trotted over to Chingus's platform and he placed the tablet in front of the huge worm-like beast. Cyesko noticed that the rune tablet was a speck compared to Chingus's bloated form.

Chingus seemed to offer Cyesko a half-smile but he wasn't sure what the expression meant. Chingus closed its eyes and concentrated on the rune tablet. The titanic rolls of blubber in Chingus's segmented body and the structure of the hall both began to shake. Cyesko thought about getting to cover but he wanted to observe and make sure that his rune configuration was effective. The Ichor Imps began to panic as the Ichor pump tanks were rocked back and forth on their rollers. An intensely bright light illuminated the central hall and Cyesko shaded his eyes.

As the physical form of the rune tablet was compromised, a violent energy storm lashed out in all directions. Chingus let out a primal scream that could only mean agony as plasma bolts from the churning morass of pure energy shot forth. Cyesko lunged behind a pillar as a serpentine plasma arc nearly struck him. Other Ichor Imps were not so lucky as body-after-body combusted into flames and Ichor tanks ruptured, resulting in shrapnel biting into flesh.

Cyesko peeked out from behind the pillar just in time to witness Melchior getting struck by a stray energy bolt, vaporizing his body which left only the Ichor tank rolling on the floor. _Rotten Imp, met a fitting end,_ Cyesko thought. He couldn't help but smile to himself.

Finally, the energy storm began to dissipate, and in its wake Chingus convulsed violently, with eyes rolled back to expose the white sclera and mouth agape. Chingus's body segments quaked with activity and its skin stretched, threatening to tear. Its teats grew at an accelerated rate, bulging with veins and translucent skin. Ichor spewed forth uncontrollably, overshooting all the collection tanks that had been set up. The hoses had fallen loose during the energy storm, so Ichor sprayed liberally over the central hall.

"Cyesko! Hurry! You need to connect the hoses—my precious Ichor!" Chingus yelled.

Cyesko sprang into action, moving as fast as his old, tired legs would carry him. He moved from gland-to-gland, connecting the hoses to collect the Ichor and getting drenched in the process. As he raced around the huge worm-like body of Chingus, he slipped and stumbled many times in his effort to get the hoses attached. _What is that revolting sound? It's Chingus's body segments tearing under the stress of his rapid growth! I think I'm going to be sick,_ he thought.

Cyesko finally finished his lap around Chingus's mountain of a body to connect all hoses. He slumped down against an Ichor tank to catch his breath. The sweet smell of Ichor permeated every surface. In that moment, Chingus's growing spurt also subsided. _I think he is at least a third larger than before I fed him that rune configuration! Incredible!_ Cyesko thought. The Ichor tanks began to run over as the reservoirs completely filled. There was nothing Cyesko could do to save the excess liquid, it would have to go down the drain for bottling.

Chingus stirred and moaned incoherently. But, then a grin appeared on its face. Chingus eyes shot open and they seemed to glow yellow to Cyesko. It continued moaning, this time in apparent pleasure.

"A-are you okay, great Chingus?" Cyesko asked.

"Okay? I am marvelous! That rune configuration was extravagant and I feel like a god, right now!" Chingus remarked, still writhing in ecstasy.

"I am so honored that you were satisfied by my work—"

"This does not change the fact that you are a fraud."

"I apologize for my actions—"

"Stop it! Just stop apologizing! In fact, just stop talking and listen. Since your powerful rune also killed all my Ichor Imps, it is now up to you to go out into the slums to hire me new Imps! I need them to move my platform so that I can get to Dingus's palace to claim the title of Lactator-General. I believe I am now larger and produce more Ichor than Dingus,"

"Yes, I will search for new Ichor Imps right away."

"Oh, and Cyesko, when you are done with that I need you to start work on one final rune. When you are done with it you will need to rush it to Dingus's palace! I do not want any possibility of Dingus retaining its title."

"B-but...Yes, Chingus, I will do what you command. Please excuse me!" Cyesko bade, and turned to hurry away on his errands. _I will never be able to create the last rune configuration in time. What am I to do? _Cyesko thought, as he stepped through the Ichor puddles and remains of the Imps.

_THE CHOSEN SCRIBE_

Tialina was prodded forward by several Ichor Imps. They pushed the top spike of their halberds into her backside just enough to hurt, but not to draw blood. She knew not where they were herding her to, only that the corridor was dark and the walls were rocky. Up ahead she could see the outline of a wooden door and the runic insignia of the Lactator-General. The chuckling and snorting of the Imps were the only other sounds besides footsteps she could hear as she moved closer to the end of the corridor.

An Imp rushed up ahead of her and unlocked the door, and then swung it open. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did she was awestruck by the view. An Imp stuck the halberd spike into Tialina's back so that she would move deeper into the vast hall. When she entered she looked up to see a great domed-ceiling that was covered with ancient frescos depicting scenes from the creation myths she now knew were untrue. One Imp hit her behind the leg in the back of the knee with the shaft of the halberd, and this forced her to kneel.

Tialina was surrounded by cackling and hissing Imps. She looked around the cavernous, empty hall. _This must be where the Masters have their grotesque assemblies that I have heard about,_ she thought. Tialina noticed the faded stains of liquid on the stone floor, and she tried to stop herself from picturing the Mass Weanings. The floor of the Great Hall began to vibrate ever so slightly. Soon, the faint shaking intensified into what she thought was a tremor, but then she saw a hidden hatch open in the floor in the center of the hall. She could make out the regular clicking sound of gears turning and a platform raised up from the hidden chamber in the floor. Tialina saw thick, boney spines appear in view, like a giant fish skeleton. Finally, the entire massive body of the Lactator-General had emerged from the hole. The Olgoikhorkian was a behemoth, and Tialina thought there was something strange with the center segments of its bloated body, like the Lactator-General was molting its skin, except it appeared that it was splitting in two. _The Lactator-General must be fragmenting. For the love of the Firebird that is sickening, all that puss,_ she thought. Tialina couldn't help but turn away from the ghastly sight.

"Why are you turning away, Tialina Syntroniphus? Are you revolted by your new Master? Don't be afraid, look at me!" the booming voice called out to her. Tialina hesitated for a split-second and then obeyed the command. When she looked at the face of the Lactator-General she was disgusted. The expression on the worm creature's face had been contorted into a permanent one of agony and anger. The color of its massive, door-sized eyes was ever-shifting in color, like that of oil mixing with water. The skin that covered each body segment of the Master was covered in stretch marks, made translucent from the constant strain of growth spurts. Tialina resolved to look the Lactator-General in the eye without flinching.

"Yes, that it is right for you to look at me. You are the one who caused the runic disturbance, and you destroyed my Rune Golem! You thought you could get away with illicitly scribing runes outside the service of the Masters, but you were wrong. Here you are, in my great hall!" Dingus mocked, with a wide, empty smile across its face. Dingus's obese face was so bloated it looked as if it was having a chronic allergic reaction, but despite this Dingus moved frighteningly fast.

"I will never serve Olgoikhorkians, you or anyone else. You might as well kill me!" she said.

"Well, you have no choice in the matter! Anyway, why would you refuse such an offer? To serve the Masters as a rune-scribe is the best you Broxanians can possibly hope for in life, and to serve the Lactator-General, itself is the highest honor!" Dingus proclaimed.

"Why? Because what you call 'service' is really slavery, plain and simple! Why would I enjoy that when I can be free?"

Dingus laughed hardily, "Rune-scribing in the service of Masters is not slavery. It is a sustainable system that keeps order in the realm. It is the way it has always been, and always will be!"

"That is not true! Your system is far from sustainable. The Masters' excessive consumption of rune configurations is draining Futharkia of life energy. The Great Fern Jungle is being destroyed by bleaching events and the creatures are going extinct!"

Dingus was silent for a moment. Tialina thought that she might have gotten through to the Lactator-General. For a moment she was hopeful that it might listen to her further.

"Of course, it's not sustainable, but there is no other alternative. The realm must be harvested of all its energy, and then we Olgoikhorkian Masters will travel to the next Braneworld to start the cycle anew!"

"Braneworld? What do you mean?"

"You poor, clueless, Broxanian, hen. Futharkia exists within a membrane world, which is weaved from the very fabric of the universe. Our world is contained within a flat membrane and it is one amid infinite Braneworlds," Dingus explained.

"If this is true, then why would you want to drain Futharkia of all its energy?"

"I was not done yet. Eons ago the original Masters came to this Braneworld through a wormhole to start the harvesting process once more. Now, that process is nearly complete. It is the purpose of the Olgoikhorkians. Tialina, you are the rune-scribe that I have waited for: The Chosen Scribe, that will create a rune configuration so powerful that it will allow me to pull another Braneworld close enough to Futharkia as to allow us Masters to crossover to the new world. No more wandering through wormholes for millennia for us."

Right as Dingus finished speaking, it began to squirm and moan in pain.

"It's happening! Dingus is going to fragment. Get ready you Imps!" Delachior shouted, and the rest of the Ichor Imps went scattering in different directions throughout the great hall.

_Dingus is about to reproduce, how disgusting. The story it told me about the Masters' origin is false. It has to be! But, I think that Dingus believes it, wholeheartedly. The vision that the Fern Lice Elder Matron showed me has to be the real story! The only logical explanation of the Olgoikhorkians is that they were wormhole-dwelling energy parasites. Somehow the ancestors of the Broxanians had the ability to open wormholes, but I have no idea how they did this. Just one of those skills lost to time,_ she thought.

Dingus screamed now as the pains of labor commenced. Tialina thought it looked like Dingus was trying to pass excrement the size of itself, squeezing its way, slowly but surely out its backend. She tried to block the events out of her mind.

_Maybe an extremely powerful rune configuration could open a wormhole, but it might also allow Dingus to warp the very fabric of reality to attract the Braneworlds together if Dingus were to consume such a rune. Then our realm would not be the only realm in danger. Possibly, the whole universe would be at risk,_ she thought.

"Lactator-General, Dingus, as much as I would love to help you with the runes you seek, I cannot because I have no tools to work with. Rune-scribing requires cosmic clay and a stylus—"

"Delachior! Delachior!" Dingus yelled through fits of agony. The Ichor Imp came scampering back into the great hall.

"You called, Dingus?"

"Take Tialina to the palace library. There she should find all the supplies and research scrolls she needs to scribe me the rune I desire!" Dingus commanded. Several Ichor Imps pulled Tialina to her feet and then gestured with the points of their halberds for her to move. She looked back at Dingus, who was being tended to by other Ichor Imps. They scaled the massive, obese body with their otherworldly agility, and then they used the blades of their halberds to cut away old, dead, excess flesh that had resulted from the fragmentation process. Tialina turned away from the scene of horror, glad to be on her way to a library.

༅༅༅

Tialina was herded into a large room that was ornately furnished with numerous flamestone and wooden desks lining one wall, while on the other side was row-upon-row of tall shelves containing a trove of ancient, dusty scrolls. At the end caps of each shelf were tables that had stacks of cosmic clay tablets on top. There were also tins filled with styluses and various tools, of many different gauges, for shaping clay.

_Well, if circumstances were different I would find this to be akin to the Firebird's Nest. All of these ancient scrolls must contain thousands of years of knowledge. If I had the time to read it all,_ she lamented.

"Scribe!" one Ichor Imp screeched, brandishing his halberd threateningly. Tialina walked into the library and gazed at each of the shelves. She then approached a table that harbored scribing supplies, she searched for specifically shaped tools, and collected several clay tablets. Tialina deposited the supplies on a vacant desk and then took a seat. She picked up a stylus and stared down at a clay tablet. _I have nothing. I just can't come up with anything. Perhaps I should do some research for inspiration?_ she thought.

Tialina got up and approached a shelf. _Where do I even start?_ she wondered. She rummaged through a pile of dingy scrolls on one shelf. She snatched a weathered scroll and opened it to read. She found that the contents detailed Fern Lice recipes from several centuries ago. Tialina tossed the scroll aside. She picked up another old scroll and pulled it open. As she read each line she realized that it was a manual for the correct methods of milking Olgoikhorkian teats. This scroll was definitely not what she was looking for. _At this rate I won't come up with anything. And that vile worm will be demanding results soon! Come on, Tialina,_ she thought. She rested her head against a shelf and felt like she would cry. She stared blankly at the floor, but then she noticed an ancient scroll sticking out from under a pile at the bottom shelf. Something about the scroll called her to it, maybe it was the color and texture?

Tialina reached down to retrieve the scroll. She slid it out from under the pile and brought it into the light. The scroll was not made from dried, weaved Fern leaves like usual. She found it to be heavily damaged parchment, probably of the Fern Louse variety. Tialina knew enough about scroll production to know that the use of parchment to make scrolls ceased at least a thousand years ago. She carried the scroll over to the flamestone desk, sat down, and began reading the scroll.

Tialina was starting to comprehend the thesis of the scroll. The central idea behind the text was that ancient Broxa mythology was heresy. The sardonic text went on, point-by-point, and showed the absurdity of the Broxanian origin story. The author stated that it is absurd to think that ancient Broxanians possessed any semblance of culture prior to Olgoikhorkian contact. The author also claimed that it was the psionic abilities of the Masters and the eldritch properties of Ichor that was the catalyst for the evolutionary and civilizing changes that occurred among the Broxanian population over millennia to allow them to become sentient.

_This must be one of the documents that the Temple of the Firebird faith was founded upon. What a piece of vile propaganda this is,_ Tialina thought. She continued reading. The scroll mocked the purported Progenitor of the Broxa, Stymphalides, the legendary hero who led his people through the wormhole to settle Futharkia, to have never existed. The author stated that Stymphalides was fabricated by a heretical cult that worshiped Stymphalides, the Progenitor, as a god. Directly following the passage was an ornate, ancient rune configuration that was the runic name of Stymphalides.

Tialina soaked up every detail of the scroll, and studied the intricate form of the Stymphalides rune. She now had the inspiration she needed for her new rune configuration. Tialina wasted no time getting to work.

_FRAGMENT CHILD_

The squeaking of numerous wheels turning and the grunting and cursing of Imps flowed together into a cacophony of noise. The huge task of transporting the monolithic form of Chingus was underway and the Imps made slow progress. Countless rickshaws had been commandeered for the purpose of transporting Chingus, and they had been added to the back of the Chingus's platform to support its gargantuan tail, that had grown too large for the wheeled platform. The drivers of the rickshaws had joined the homeless Ichor Imps that Cyesko had hired for Chingus, and now they all struggled to move the titanic worm.

"Come on, you foul creatures, put your backs into it! If you want fresh Ichor straight from the source you better speed it up!" Chingus howled.

"Another axel has broken! Quick, let's get it fixed!" one Imp announced. Several more scampered over to the broken axel under the platform to replace it. Chingus let out an exasperated sigh. _I am so close to reaching fragmentation size, I can feel it! Everything conspires against me, blocking me from reaching my goals. Dingus must not be allowed to oppress me so!_ Chingus thought. A wave of despair overtook Chingus and it was on the verge of giving up.

"The axel has been replaced. Come on, let's get 'er moving!" another Imp yelled out. Suddenly, Chingus's spirits lifted once more, and it looked up the thoroughfare to see that the Lactator-General's palace was within view.

"You there! Get up to the front gate and announce my arrival. Have Dingus's staff open up the rear entrance to the Great Hall! Make sure that Dingus knows I am coming," Chingus ordered.

The Imp gave a bow and then scurried off on his mission. The small army of Ichor Imps continued the struggle to haul the giant Olgoikhorkian the rest of the way to the rear entrance of the Great Hall. When Chingus finally reached the rear entrance, it saw that Delachior, the Imp was waiting.

"Nurser Tribune, why have you come to the Lactator-General's palace? Dingus is busy right now and does not want to be disturbed!" Delachior said.

"Have you not taken notice of how much I have grown since you saw me last? Gaze upon the grandeur of my massive glands! The Ichor they produce is enough to keep an army of Imps alive indefinitely. I demand a rank evaluation as I believe I will take the rank of Lactator-General," Chingus proclaimed proudly.

"Very well. I guess you have that right, follow me." Delachior gestured for Chingus's procession to move ahead. The Imps labored to haul Chingus and its platform, as well as the procession of rickshaws, up the ramp and into the palace. _Now is my time to shine. The look on Dingus's face will be priceless to witness when it sees how much I have grown,_ Chingus thought. As the large, fortified double-doors heading to the Great Hall were pushed open by the Ichor Imps, Chingus's own expression went slack when it witnessed what transpired in the Great Hall.

"Nurser Tribune, welcome to my hall. Although, I would have preferred privacy during my intimate moment here, but, nevertheless, you called a rank evaluation. Well, here we are," Dingus said, while lightly caressing another smaller Olgoikhorkian. The massive form of Dingus dwarfed what Chingus had come to realize was its fragment child. The creature was newborn, and the fragmentation must have just occurred before Chingus had reached the hall. The fragment-child's eyes were not even open yet. The fragment-child looked nearly identical to Dingus, but its skin was a darker purple, with green liver spots spread about its body segments. _Blast! I was too late. I had thought that the fragmentation would have taken longer! Unless, the Lactator-General has found a skilled rune-scribe. Dingus's fragment child is only slightly smaller than I. How could this happen?_ Chingus thought.

"I guess I should offer congratulations to you for fragmenting without incident."

"Oh, I assure you, birthing such a massive fragment-child was no easy feat. Its name is 'Congis'. Such a big, healthy child!" Dingus said.

Chingus could see that the fragment-child, Congis, was being fed small rune tablets by a Broxanian female, who had remained silent during the whole exchange.

"Who is this hen in your employ? I have never seen her among your rune-scribes," Chingus asked.

"Where are my manners? This is my new Chief Rune-Scribe, Tialina Syntroniphus," Dingus said.

"So this is the hen that created such powerful runes, and destroyed your Rune Golem, Dingus?" Chingus asked.

"Indeed. It took some persuasion after she was imprisoned, but soon she agreed to serve me and create such powerful rune sas to allow me to grow large enough to fragment early, and now I have been blessed with Congis here," Dingus said while gesturing to its fragment-child. Congis still had its eyes shut, but it continued to consume the small rune tablets voraciously with its burgeoning psionic powers, like a hungry grub. Tialina stood at the foot of the platform that supported both Dingus and Congis where she scribed rune-after-rune within seconds to feed the rapacious fragment-child. Ichor Imps kept a steady stream of cosmic clay tablets being conveyed to Tialina, as she struggled to keep up with demand.

_What is keeping Cyesko? Now would be a perfect time for him to show his dirty beak,_ Chingus thought as it watched Dingus feed its fragment-child with envy in its heart.

_BIG BANG_

Tialina watched with amusement, as much as she could between rune-scribing, at the exchange between Chingus and Dingus.

"I find it hard to believe that the hen alone was responsible for your accelerated growth rate and fragmentation. There must be more to the story!" Chingus insisted.

Dingus scoffed and was about to answer before Delachior came scampering into the great hall.

"Great Dingus, you have more company. It is Cyesko Limariar, disgraced rune-scribe to Nurser Tribune, Chingus. Should I allow him entry?" Delachior asked.

"Yes, why not? What harm could that fraud cause? I mean my position is secure." Dingus waved a dismissive hand. Delachior scurried off to retrieve Cyesko.

Cyesko stumbled into the hall, clearly drunk off Ichor. He made his way over to Chingus who stared down at him with rage-filled eyes.

"C-chingus, I have come to—"

"Where have you been? I thought you would have arrived by now?" Chingus asked.

"I am terribly sorry, Chingus. I became engrossed in my creations and time just slipped—oh my—" Cyesko stopped what he was saying when he caught sight of Tialina. It looked like he had seen a ghost. She could tell that he was terrified at the sight of her, and it probably didn't help matters that she was now in the employ of the Lactator-General.

"Cyesko Limariar, what is wrong? Did you see something that is familiar to you? Perhaps something you would like to steal for yourself? One of these runes, perhaps?" Tialina asked sardonically while she held up one of the bite-sized rune tablets. Cyesko did not answer back and he averted his eyes.

"Is this the rune-scribe who usurped your designs for his own gain?" Dingus asked.

"Yes," she answered.

"Well, it appears Chingus has been cheating the process with this rune-scribe fraud!" Dingus said.

"Please! That is absurd! Tialina Syntroniphus was a fugitive rune-scribe, and it matters not where Cyesko got his inspiration, so long as he produced high quality rune configurations!" Chingus said.

"You are out of line, Nurser Tribune. Any illicit runes and scribes are to be surrendered to the Office of the Lactator-General and not used by lower ranking Masters. So, by our laws Cyesko should have been working for me!" Dingus growled.

"That is not how our system is supposed to work. All Masters are responsible for procuring their own rune-scribes. It had never been specified exactly how we should go about it!" Chingus replied.

"I am proclaiming it so. That it shall be my law from now on. I am the Lactator-General and I have the right to mandate new laws," Dingus roared.

"I am disappointed Lactator-General. I was hoping that we could settle this within the system that Olgoikhorkians have set up, old as time itself, but now I know that I will never get my due by playing by the rules," Chingus said.

"Rules? You have not been playing by the rules this entire time. You have no concept of what the word means," Dingus replied.

"Maybe you're right, Dingus. Cyesko, please give the rune configuration that you have been working so hard on," Chingus asked.

Cyesko seemed to hesitate, and said nothing. Slowly he pulled a rune tablet out of the shoulder bag he carried. Tialina wondered if the rune was one of the missing pieces from her trunk, or at least a rune configuration plagiarized from her own.

"Chingus, are you sure? Dingus is the Lactator-General. Its words are law—"

"Damn you, Broxanian! You serve me. Now give me the rune!" Chingus snarled.

That tongue-lashing seemed to break down any hesitancy that Cyesko harbored. He proceeded forward and laid the rune in front of the mammoth Olgoikhorkian.

"No! What are you doing? Give me the rune! I am the Lactator-General..." Dingus's objections went unheeded and Tialina watched as Chingus looked at the rune with anticipation in its eyes. Chingus seemed to salivate over the prospect of consuming the rune tablet. Soon the rune tablet before it began to glow and Chingus closed its eyes in concentration. Tialina recognized this as the start of the rune consumption process. She watched helplessly as the clay tablet started to disintegrate. _The power contained within that rune will probably be incredibly destructive. I have to get out of here or die!_ she thought. But Tialina was surrounded by dozens of armed Ichor Imps and it would be suicide to run.

Almost immediately, crackling bolts of plasma lashed out at random as an energy storm brewed. Tialina dove for cover behind Dingus's giant platform. The entirety of the hall was bathed in white light. Chingus cried out in high-pitched shrieks. Tialina thought that Dingus might be dying, but she could not be sure. The one thing she was sure of was that it was the most excruciating sound she had heard in a long time, like a thousand Fern Lice being gassed at once back at the processing plant.

Tialina peered out from behind the platform and could see that Chingus's skin crackled with energy and its body segments stretched and cracked as it grew too big for its own skin. The many teats on Chingus's underside bulged, with veins protruding, and soon the Ichor sprayed freely from the glands. Dingus and its fragment-child were pelted relentlessly by energy bolts and Ichor. Both were pockmarked with scorch marks, being battered by the swirling fury of creation energy.

Delachior and the other Ichor Imps tried to flee from the Great Hall. One Imp was cut in two by a plasma bolt, and another was blown into chunky giblets as his pressurized Ichor tank was struck by the super-heated energy. Delachior himself was reduced to a pile of ash by a bolt, and only his jewel encrusted facemask remained.

Dingus was a large enough creature to endure the punishment of the white-hot plasma blizzard, but its fragment-child was a different story. The newborn cried out in pain and confusion as it was struck repeatedly by laser-like blasts. The wounds it suffered secreted puss and purple ooze.

"Oh, my poor Congis! Someone help my fragment-child!" Dingus cried out to none in particular. Tialina surmised that its motherly instincts had kicked in from some buried feminine side of the creature. However, the bloated worm was too large and fat to move itself, much less its offspring. Instead it sat there, weeping and struggling to cover the fragment-child with its own body.

The Ichor continued to spew unabated from Chingus's heaving bosoms, which coated the floor in a golden slick. The energy storm slowly faded and was soon spent. Dingus sobbed as its fragment-child had been severely burned from the storm.

"Tialina! Tialina, where are you?" Dingus cried out as it watched Chingus grow larger by the second. Tialina got up from her hiding place and rushed toward Dingus, but then she slipped on Ichor and went sliding through the syrupy liquid face-first, then, finally came to a stop. Almost immediately she could feel the intoxicating effects from being drench in Ichor. Her vision became embellished with flourishes and sparks that were there, but were not.

"Quick, Tialina, give me another rune! Chingus must not become Lactator-General!" Dingus commanded.

"But, Futharkia can't handle much more of this. The realm does not have enough energy to sustain this!" Tialina protested.

"I do not care about this realm! The time has come for the Lactator-General and its offspring to find a new colony on another Braneworld. and it can't be Chingus! So, give me another rune, hen!" Dingus yelled.

_Well, if you really want it that bad I guess I can't refuse the Lactator-General,_ she thought. Tialina reached into her own pack and pulled from it a rune tablet she had crafted in the palace library, then she set it in front of Dingus on its platform.

"Very good! Now I will see to Chingus's downfall." Dingus concentrated on the rune configuration and soon the tablet became electrically charged and began to glow. Chingus continued to grow and molt its old skin with ear-splitting snaps and crunches, and when it noticed what Dingus was doing, it yelled out with guttural fury.

Tialina rushed away from Dingus, slipping and sliding on the Ichor-covered floor. Cyesko's eyes grew wide when he saw that Tialina was coming toward him. He seemed frozen in indecision, like he didn't know if she wanted to hurt him or help him.

"Cyesko! Get down—get down, you dolt!" Tialina cried out, and when she reached him she pulled him behind a pillar. He did not protest as he was still drunk off Ichor. Another, more violent energy storm was brewing in the middle of the Great Hall.

"Listen, Cyesko, I think I crafted a rune configuration that opens a wormhole!" Tialina said.

"I-impossible! That is just a myth," Cyesko said.

"No, it isn't. I found a library here. There's no time! We only have one chance to escape before Futharkia is destroyed," she said. Cyesko did not offer further argument.

Tialina looked out at the mayhem that occurred in the middle of the hall. A more powerful energy storm took shape and it renewed the assault upon Dingus's fragment-child, Congis. The newborn let out an anguished squeal as it was set alight by the plasma bolts. Dingus watched in horror as its progeny went up in a column of flame and plasma, but as the Lactator-General grew ever larger from the rune that it consumed, and soon its head butt up against the ceiling of the Great Hall. Then, it seemed to forget that it had just lost its fragment-child to fire, as Dingus grinned maniacally at the realization of its own size. The ceiling beams soon cracked under the stress of the Lactator-General's body pressing upon the dome.

"I am sorry, Congis, that I could not provide you with a long life! I hope that you find peace. I suppose sacrifices must be made for the greater glory of the Olgoikhorkians!" Dingus said to the flaming, bloated corpse of Congis. The dome began to crack and gave way, but now Chingus had grown too big for the confines of the Great Hall. Both Olgoikhorkians crashed through the dome. The unearthly large glands from each Master let loose a torrential flood that filled the hall. Tialina and Cyesko were swept up in the viscous current of the Ichor sea. The Ichor flowed out of the Great Hall, smashing down doors and carrying away furniture. Tialina struggled to keep her head above the surface and she held onto Cyesko who seemed so drunk that he showed no fear of their current plight. She looked ahead and saw that the Ichor flood had swept open the front gate of the palace and they were flung helplessly outside.

The Ichor spread out into many directions once outside, and the flood soon dissipated into a trickle. Tialina and Cyesko were deposited into the street in a puddle of Ichor. Both of them gasped for air, and she struggled to wipe the Ichor off her face. Cyesko laid there laughing, seemingly at some Ichor-induced hallucinations. Even she saw things that were not there, superimposed on the scene of the two Masters growing taller than the surrounding skyline. _This is exactly why I quit drinking this stuff. The Fern Jungle behind the barrier is going white in front of me. There is not a single speck of emerald left! Wait—this isn't an Ichor hallucination!_ she thought.

Tialina looked up at the two titanic Masters that were now amid the clouds. She saw that Dingus had grown faster that Chingus, and in the sky above she could see a translucent cosmos seemingly superimposed over their own.

"Cyesko! Damnit, listen to me! See that in the sky?" Tialina asked. Cyesko squinted his eyes and shook his head from side to side rapidly. He focused on her, and then looked to the sky with shock in his eyes.

"W-what is happening to the sky?"

"It's Dingus! It is using the energy from the rune configuration in the wrong way. It is trying to pull a Braneworld to make contact with ours. Dingus thinks it can travel to a new world that way, but that is not the way the Olgoikhorkians have ever traveled. They used wormholes," Tialina explained.

"So what does that mean for us?" Cyesko asked.

"It means that if the Braneworlds collide, everything in both worlds will be destroyed!"

"You don't mean..."

"Yes, a creation event—a big bang!"

"What can we do?" Cyesko asked.

Tialina sighed, "Help me activate this rune configuration to open a wormhole."

"But, but only Olgoikhorkians have the ability to manipulate wormholes!"

"Forget everything you have heard at the Temple! It's all lies fabricated by Olgoikhorkians. Our Progenitor, Stymphalides and his brethren had the power to open wormholes. Now if you don't want to die, help me!"

In the sky above, the other Braneworld drew closer and titanic clouds of gas gathered into electrical storms. Wind kicked up dust and Ichor everywhere. The two Masters towered over Futharkia and had ascended into the heavens, but Dingus still outpaced Chingus in growth. The two Olgoikhorkian titans fought in a psionic duel that leveled entire structures throughout the city. Beyond Futharkia, the Great Fern Jungle, once an electric green, was now a sea of white, bleached out of existence.

"You want to just abandon our home? What about all our tools, scrolls and Ichor?" Cyesko asked.

"Are you daft? The entire realm is about to be nothing! Do you want to live or not?" she yelled.

"Well, what about all the other Broxa? What about all the other creatures?"

"Do you have any family?"

"Well, no..."

"Neither, do I. Now help me with this rune!"

Both of them concentrated on Tialina's last rune configuration. Energy began to hiss and swirl around the two of them. The structures among the city collapsed one by one, and great rifts formed in the ground where entire blocks were swallowed up. Mass itself was being converted to energy, as the fabric of Futharkia came unraveled around them. The last of the energy of the realm was being used by Dingus to pull the two Braneworlds together. Tialina saw the demise of Chingus as its form fell victim to the matter-to-energy conversion process. Its great girth dissipated into millions of particles that dispersed into the ether.

Tialina and Cyesko saw the very air in front of them torn asunder as a great wound opened in front of them. The wormhole was unstable, and the rim of the opening jiggled and shifted like the surface of a soap bubble.

Tialina rushed toward the opening, but noticed that Cyesko did not follow. She turned back to see that he was struggling to pull an Ichor tank behind him that had been washed out of the Great Hall by the flood.

"Leave it! There's no time!" she cried.

"I'm an addict! I can' survive without it," he shouted. Tialina ran to his side and grabbed part of the tank, and both of them hurried to the wormhole. Finally, they reached the threshold and crossed over, and as Tialina looked back she witnessed the first contact of the Braneworlds. All matter in the realm was obliterated in that instant, and she thought that they would be killed as well, just as the wormhole closed behind them. All was quiet now, except for Cyesko's heavy breathing due to the exertion of carrying the tank. Only blue-greenish luminescence that was cast by the walls of the wormhole was all that could be seen.

"Oh boy, do I need a drink!" Cyesko muttered.

_CHUPACABRA_

Cyesko dragged the Ichor tank behind him with difficulty. As he walked along he would take prolonged swigs off the feed hose connected to the tank. He had stayed perpetually drunk since they had fled Futharkia through the wormhole. Cyesko watched with amusement as Tialina stepped cautiously over the gyrating and shifting ground plane of the wormhole. He began to chuckle. Tialina turned to him and grimaced in annoyance.

"Must you make that obnoxious laughter? What do you think is so funny about our situation?" Tialina said. The sound of her voice was muffled close up, but then was amplified further down the strange tunnel, like the sound waves were disappearing from one point and emanating from another random point within the wormhole. Cyesko laughed at this phenomenon as well.

"We fled our reality! And now we are trapped in a wormhole to never escape. This is hysterical!" Cyesko said and he experienced a laughing fit that forced him to sit on the surface of the glowing tunnel floor. He did not know which way was up or down, right or left, east or west, but the wormhole seemed to obey the laws of gravity.

"We will find a way out. We have to. Our ancestors did millennia ago!" Tialina said. Cyesko watched her turn away from him to investigate something on the wall.

Cyesko sat reclining against the wormhole wall, liberally sucking Ichor from the hose, when he felt something wiggling against his hand. He looked down and was startled to see a small, squirming creature attempting to flee. _Is this the Ichor making me see things? Wait, this creature, it looks familiar somehow,_ Cyesko thought.

Cyesko noticed that the creature left a trail of sticky, glistening liquid behind as it crawled toward the safety of a ripple in the wall. He pressed one fingertip into the trail the worm had created and then he tasted it with his tongue. _This is Ichor! These creatures are forerunners to the Olgoikhorkians!_ he thought. Cyesko quickly snatched several of the worms from the wall and tucked them into his shoulder bag.

"These are Olgoikhorkians—or at least before they evolved into Masters! Watch yourself! Make sure you don't pick up any of these parasites. They don't belong outside of wormholes," Tialina said.

"Of course," Cyesko replied.

"Come on, already. Let's get going. The more territory we cover the more likely we are to find an outlet," she said, and she started off. Cyesko reluctantly got up.

"What is your hurry? Don't you know we could be trapped in here forever? After all, if the Broxanian Pagan Sagas are correct, the Progenitors wandered through the wormholes for twenty generations. What hope do you think we have of escaping?" Cyesko asked.

"I don't know, but I would like to try. There is nothing to eat here, and no comfort to be had," she replied.

"Even if we do find an outlet from these tunnels, it doesn't mean that the next world will be habitable for us," Cyesko said, then, he took a swig from the hose. Tialina walked briskly over to him.

"Give me that!" she swiped the hose from out of his hand and then she sucked on the end. When she was satisfied with her portion she pushed the hose against Cyesko's chest.

"I swear, you are a depressing creature if you make me want to drink Ichor."

"I am simply being realistic."

"You don't think I know our plight? Futharkia was destroyed along with thousands of Broxanians and Imps, and the Great Fern Jungle was destroyed with millions of creatures in it."

"At least we have Ichor."

"This addicting substance that is secreted from the teats of the Masters? It looks like you possess the last of the substance in that tank there. Better make it last. If you think about it though, what is Ichor, but just the energy of the universe converted to a kind of lactose."

"Yes, a bloody refreshing lactose!"

"I guess it becomes tastier the rarer it becomes," she said. Tialina turned back around and started down the tunnel again. Cyesko tucked the hose away and followed her lead. The two of them continued on in silence for hours. Every segment of the wormhole seemed just like the last, and it slowly dawned on Cyesko that life stuck in these ethereal warrens would be dismal indeed.

The walking continued. Soon, Cyesko had lost track of time. _Every bit of this tunnel is the same! I can't tell how long we have been walking and I have no idea if it is the solar or lunar cycle. The walls crawl with life, and it feels like we have been walking in circles. My head is killing me. I need more Ichor! No! Save it, Cyesko,_ he thought.

Cyesko removed his cap and wiped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. He did his best to keep a level head. Tialina had said nothing for hours it seemed, she just kept striding along. _The young have no respect for the needs of the old. If only she would take my age into account when she sets the pace. I don't think it would make any difference to her if I did say anything. Then again, she does think me a plagiarist,_ he thought.

"That's it! I can't walk anymore. How about we set up camp right here?" Tialina asked.

"That is fine with me," Cyesko answered. The two spoke no more as they tried to get as comfortable as possible. Soon, Tialina had drifted off to sleep. Cyesko stayed up a little longer sucking Ichor from the hose.

༅༅༅

When Tialina awoke she found that Cyesko was still out and snoring loudly. She climbed to her feet and walked over to him.

"Cyesko!" she said. He did not stir. She looked at his beak and saw there was a dried film on it. _He was drinking Ichor the entire time I was asleep. It will be impossible to rouse him!_ she thought.

"Cyesko!" she yelled louder this time. Cyesko snorted and drooled, turned to the other side, and then continued snoring.

"Stymphalides' ass! Get up, you Ichor addict!" she yelled. Cyesko covered his head with one arm, then, mumbled something unintelligible. _This is ridiculous. Why don't I just leave this cretin behind? After all, he did steal from me, and he turned me in to the Lactator-General. In fact, he is partially responsible for this current situation. Why the hell don't I abandon him?_ she thought.

The idea seemed entirely appealing and she was about to follow through, but then she remembered that he was the only other individual of their species left alive. The two of them were all that was left of the Broxanians. Like it or not, they had to stick together.

Tialina let out a sigh that signified defeat. She sat down beside him and then hit the wall of the wormhole with a hammer fist in exasperation. Suddenly she felt the sensation of falling. She looked to Cyesko and he had been jarred awake by the collapse of the bottom of the wormhole. Tialina looked up and saw that there was a hole in the foreign sky and they had been falling through it. Cyesko was screaming in a high pitch and his eyes bulged from his head, but he still clutched the Ichor tank like it was his offspring.

Tialina looked down and there was a great green grass sea that spread out below, and it was rushing up to meet them, growing larger by the second. When she looked closer she saw that there were strange white, cloud-like creatures clustered below. There were hundreds of them.

Cyesko reached out and clutched Tialina's arm as they fell. She looked him in the eye, as if to acknowledge that this was the end and they would die. Then, the two of them hit something. There was a sickening crunch, and Tialina had the wind forced from her lungs. Her entire body ached, and she was wet. Tialina inspected her body. She was in one piece, but she was covered in blood. She looked over at Cyesko and he too was bloodied. _For the love of the Firebird! We must be smashed bone and organ. I don't want to die this way!_ she thought. Tialina attempted to sit upright and she found that she could. Her body wasn't broken, but whose blood was she covered in? Was it Cyesko's blood?

Cyesko began to stir, "Are we dead?" he asked. He sat upright and noticed the blood he was covered in.

"No we aren't dead and I don't think is our blood," she said. Tialina reached for the ground to support herself, but all she felt was wet hair of some sort. She looked to see what it was. Patches of white fur could be seen amid all the blood and gore. The two of them had fallen on top of one of the cloud creatures and it had exploded all over this strange grass sea. It had sacrificed itself to save them.

"W-we are alive?" a drunk Cyesko muttered. Tialina took stock of her surroundings and was shocked to see that they were now surrounded by a herd of cloud creatures. Their long faces and alien eyes were affixed to Tialina and Cyesko. The cloud creatures moved closer, ever slowly, in a concerted effort to hem them in.

"What are they?" Cyesko cried out.

"I don't know! Don't move," she replied. What were they indeed? Were they incensed that one of their number had been killed? Were they looking for revenge? Would Tialina and Cyesko be eaten by these beasts? Why did they not make any sounds? The suspense was killing her.

"Baaaaaah!" one of the beasts roared. It seemed larger than the others and it had twisted, demonic horns on the sides of its head.

"Bloody beast! What does it want? Look at its eyes, its evil!" Cyesko yelled as he shrank back in terror. The other cloud creatures joined in on the symphony of demonic yells, "Baaaaaah, baaaaaah, baaaaaah!"

The beasts moved forward and with a twitching snout began to sniff them. One of the beasts began to nip at Cyesko's blood drenched garment.

"No! It's trying to eat me!" he screamed. Tialina was about to start fighting the beasts, when suddenly a great roar that drowned out any of the cloud creatures' calls rang out over the grass sea. The sky was dark but great beams of light pierced the blackness, illuminating the scene. The herd of cloud creatures seemed to panic. Tialina gazed in the direction of the light. Two massive infernal eyes seemed to be the source of the light. She thought they were flying, and they were coming straight for the herd of cloud creatures. The sea of white parted rapidly for the inbound, disembodied eyes that glowed with the fire of a star. Soon, the body that harbored the eyes was visible. It was a flat, squat creature, that seemed to glide on four legs, but the beast was much larger than Broxanians or these cloud creatures. Tialina suspected that this must be a predator of the cloud creatures judging by how they bolted in panic.

The great roaring beast had chased the clouds away, and now it was just Tialina, Cyesko, and the beast. She waited for it to pounce but it just sat there, growling constantly. The rear end of the beast let out a column of smoke. It was unlike anything she had ever seen in Futharkia. The beast was painted a bright red and bore flame markings on either side. Tialina surmised that it was tribal war paint of some sort.

Cyesko was frozen in fright in the midst of the overpowering light of the demon's eyes. She did not want to attempt any sudden movements either. Just then, the side of the smoking beast's body opened, and something crawled out of it. Did the beast just give birth? Was this some kind of appendage that would grab them? She saw that whatever had crawled out was not attached to the smoking beast and it walked upright like a Broxanian. Tialina guessed that it must be an Imp, like ones that served the Olgoikhorkians, but this Imp was wingless. The Imp drew closer, making all kinds of strange noises.

"Yah! Yah! ¡Vámonos!" the Imp barked. The Imp looked to be holding a stick or a spear and it was pointing it at them.

Cyesko and Tialina climbed to their feet off the crushed cloud creature so that they were fully illuminated by the smoky beast's fiery eyes. Tialina saw that the cloud creature's blood had probably attracted the smoky beast, and now the sight of the blood had whipped the Imp into a frenzy. _The Imp and the beast want our kill,_ she thought.

Finally, the Imp stepped into the light shone by its master's eyes, and they could see just how grotesque it was in appearance. The Imp was devoid of fur or feathers except around its mouth. It was brown of skin and had a flat face, and small, beady eyes filled with rage.

"Chupacabra!" the Imp roared. The Imp raised the spear to its face with the tip pointing at them, and it summoned a magical fire bolt that let out a thunderous clamor and blinding flash. The projectile fired from the magic spear bit into the carcass of the cloud creature they had landed on.

"Run!" Tialina yelled to Cyesko. He was jarred out of his trance. Tialina started into a sprint, and Cyesko jumped to his feet, and ran with the Ichor tank on his back. The Imp attacked them with more fire bolts launched from its magic spear. The bolts chewed up the dirt and grass around their feet as they scampered off into the darkness.

༅༅༅

Tialina and Cyesko had wandered through this strange new realm for many solar and lunar rotations. They had seen many new, and alien landscapes, from dry deserts to vast, sprawling grassland with grass taller than they were, that bore weird, elongated fruit that looked like white beads attached to a cone. They had tasted this fruit and found that it was not edible unless heated by fire. Tialina had been eating the fruit while Cyesko had stuck to some Fern Louse tins that he had on his person before Futharkia was destroyed. They decided to take a break from their trek under a large Fern. Tialina did not know what to call the towering flora of this realm so she just called them Ferns for simplicity's sake.

They settled in the shade of the Fern and leaned up against its trunk. Tialina's energy had been sapped by the intense heat given off by this realm's sun; it seemed closer and much more intense than Futharkia's star. She was glad to get a break.

"I have no idea what I'll do once I run out of Fern Lice meat. There's no way I'll be able to survive off these white beads you eat. They don't even look edible," Cyesko said.

"Is complaining all you do? I am sure that this realm will have plenty of edible plants and animals," Tialina replied.

"What, you mean those cloud creatures? If they are preyed upon by fire demons and their Imps, you can count me out!"

"I doubt that those cloud creatures are the only food source here, if you are a carnivore. Be patient."

"I guess you are right. This place is just so strange."

"True. We will need to virtually start over and learn new ways of doing things in order to survive. Things we used to take for granted,"

"I know. The challenge ahead makes my head hurt. We are the last two Broxanians alive. Good thing there is one male and one female, so I guess it is our duty to keep the species alive; squeeze out a few rune eggs!"

"You just keep your talons safely to yourself if you know what's good for you!" Tialina said. Cyesko chuckled.

"What will you miss the most about Futharkia, Tialina?" Cyesko asked.

"Well, I haven't really given it much thought. I guess all the scrolls that were lost. All that knowledge is now gone. But, I suppose once all that Ichor in the tank is gone, I will miss that too—not that I was much of a drinker. Although it will probably be good for you to learn to live without Ichor," she said.

"Never. I could never live without Ichor. And thanks to me we don't have to! When we were in the wormhole I snatched a few Olgoikhorkian grubs from the wall. I have been feeding them some small runes I had with me! Look how fast they are growing already," Cyesko said. He reached into his bag and pulled out two hand-sized worms. Tialina looked on with wide eyes as one of the worms smiled back at her with a sinister grin.

_RUNE EGGS_

Tialina had finally placed the body upon the roughly constructed platform, with great struggle. She had used the aid of a stretcher made from branches and weaved reeds to give her some leverage to hoist the body atop the platform. Once she had situated the corpse into its finally resting position she took one last, prolonged gaze at its face. _Cyesko looks like he is at rest now. Hopefully, he is part of the Firebird's Flock now, in the safety of the Divine Nest. Not that I really believe in that idea, but maybe he did._ Tialina thought.

Tialina descended the rickety ladder she had built. When she reached the ground she picked up the old, rusty Ichor tank that Cyesko had been quite found of drinking Ichor from. She hauled it to the top on the platform and laid it by Cyesko's side. Tialina thought this was a humorous, and fitting revenge for Cyesko's plagiarism and treachery. _There you go, Cyesko, your Ichor addiction will continue in the afterlife, but no rune-scribing for you. It's a good thing I killed those worms of yours before they were able to seduce and enslave the inhabitants of this world as well,_ she thought.

Of course, Tialina didn't really mean any malice by the gesture, mostly, anyway. She fancied herself the type that didn't hold grudges. Being the last of her species meant that she would gain nothing by this act. She hoped that if Cyesko was looking down upon her now that he would find the gesture funny. When Tialina had first met Cyesko she found the old man despicable and untrustworthy, especially since his actions had been partially responsible for the destruction of Futharkia, but as she got to know him she felt pity for him. Eventually she had grown found of Cyesko. And, besides, she had despised most elements of life in Futharkia, so in away she was glad it was gone.

Tialina could thank Cyesko, in some perverse way, for her newly found freedom, completely unattached and on the run in an alien world. The thrill of surviving in this new realm had reinvigorated her appreciation for life. But, while Tialina had thrived due to her being in the prime of her life, Cyesko had declined rapidly in health, partly from strain and partly from his Ichor addiction. She had watched over him when he was no longer mobile and made sure that he was as comfortable as possible on his makeshift deathbed. Shortly thereafter, Cyesko had passed on.

Now, Tialina was alone. She had finished giving Cyesko a platform burial in the ancient Broxanian tradition that would offer up his body to the scavengers and the elements. Tialina looked up to see birds of flight circling overhead, calling out in anticipation of scavenging a meal. In that moment, she had envied these strange birds, her inter-dimensional cousins. _Well, if I was able to fly right now that would assist me greatly. But, now I better start thinking about building a new shelter,_ she thought.

Tialina had collected up the items among Cyesko's belongings that would assist her most on her journey, and had left the rest behind. She had found that Cyesko carried with him a good amount of Cosmic Clay, and that made her happy because she would be able to scribe rune configurations for defense. Tilaina shouldered her pack and set off across an emerald green meadow. She heard many excited bird calls, and as she waded through the grass she stopped, turned around, and gave one last look at Cyesko's burial platform as the bird's landed to pick at his carcass.

"So long, you charlatan," Tialina said aloud.

She set off once more through the meadow. The sky was a deep blue and dotted with wispsy clouds. Tialina was thankful that the two of them had traveled far enough to escape the endless savanna that they had landed in while Cyesko was still alive. The two of them had been careful to stay away from the roads that the Fire Demons frequently used, and they had learned to avoid the vast monoculture fields that the "strange skin imps" tended for the fire demons.

The realm had given way to a much more hospitable landscape. When she looked to the horizon she could see a mountain ridge rising up to meet the sky, and it was awash in green. _There must be a forest on that distant mountain. That would probably be an ideal location,_ Tialina thought.

Tialina picked up the pace. She came upon a small stream that cascaded down from the mountainside as she moved through the flat, grassland. She closed the distance to the mountain and soon she had reached the cover of the tree line. _I think I will be safe here. It will be the perfect place. I better get to work,_ Tialina thought. She set off to explore the nearby woods to see what kind of supplies and food she could collect for her ordeal ahead.

༅༅༅

Tialina had labored for the better part of sixty solar rotations gathering all that she would need. She had found a cavern in the hillside that seemed to offer the protection and shelter she would need. Among the supplies she had gathered were sticks and branches, reeds and grass for weaving, red clay from the riverbank, and a variety of berries and nuts from the surrounding forest. She had even broken down and collected the squirming larvae of insects due to the strange cravings she was experiencing. Tialina wasn't looking forward to violating her all plant diet, but she knew that she couldn't go against nature.

Tialina sat silently by the small fire she had started with the aid of a minuscule rune configuration that she had scribed in some of the red clay she had collected. _This clay is sufficient enough for creating basic runes, but it lacks the potency of Cosmic Clay for creating the kind of runes I was making back in Futharkia,_ she thought. Tialina used the light given off by the fire to reread the only scroll that she had managed to take from the Lactator-General's palace. The scroll was entitled "The Absurd Heresy of the Pagan Broxa Creation Myth, by Arch-Gothi Fidonterus".

_Oh, what's the point? I have read this scroll thousands of times now. Even its ironic humor has run its course. But, what will I do with my time while I wait?_ she thought. Tialina tossed the scroll aside and let out a sigh.

_None of this even matters. The entire culture and history of the Broxanians have been obliterated, and I—I think it's starting!_ she thought.

Tialine tensed up, waddled over to her prepared nest, and reclined back into it. She breathed heavily now and clutched her stomach. _I never pictured me ever doing this. I always figured I'd be a highly successful rune-scribe and revolutionary, going on to make change occur in Futharkia. But, obviously that is not how my life turned out,_ Tialina thought.

Tialina groaned loudly as the pain shot through her loins. This sensation undeniably signaled that the life-changing event was now upon her: the laying of a runic egg. _This is my gift to you, Cyesko. You were lucky that you were the last male Broxanian left, you conman, s_ he thought, while breathing deeply.

༅༅༅

"Stymphalides! You leave your egg twin alone. How many times must I tell you that she doesn't like it when you pull at her feathers," Tialina cried out.

"Stop it, Stymphalides! Why don't you listen to our grandmother?" Phoenicia cried out as she wrestled with her egg twin, Stymphalides. The two children were dressed in a similar manner, with roughly spun tunics made from the "cloud creature" wool that had been covertly collected for their garments. They also wore matching trousers fabricated from the same material. Tialina wasted no time chasing after the two rambunctious hatchlings, old age disguising her spryness and agility. She separated the two bickering siblings, and used her body as a physical barrier to further conflict.

"I'm sorry, Tialina. I was only playing around!" Stymphalides said.

"Yeah, right! You were trying to hurt me!" Phoenicia said.

"Calm down, both of you! Do you want me to tell your parents that you both are misbehaving?"

"No!" the siblings protested in unison.

"Well, alright. Now, Stymphalides, just because you are bigger than Phoenicia does not give you the right to push her around. Now apologize to Phoenicia!"

"I'm sorry, Phoenicia. I won't do it again," Stymphalides muttered with his arms folded.

"It's okay, Stymphalides. I forgive you," Phoenicia said.

"Great! Now that the matter is settled, I need both of you to go to our home to wash up. We will begin your rune-scribing lessons shortly, and soon your parents will be home from foraging," Tialina said.

The children ran up ahead, through the trees, to a rocky wall at the foot of the mountain. The children stood in front of a nondescript portion of the wall, then both of them raised a hand to one particular spot on the wall. After several seconds, a rune on the portion of wall began to glow, and then an archway formed in the rock wall, exposing a void. Stymphalides and Phoenicia ran into the darkness and disappeared from sight.

Tialina soon reached the exposed opening to the cavern and entered. She placed her hand atop a rune that was mounted on the interior wall of the cavern. She turned to make sure the facade reappeared to keep the illusion in place, then, she walked slowly along the narrow corridor.

"Stymphalides! Phoenicia! I hope you are getting ready for your rune-scribing lessons," she yelled.

Tialina heard the giggling of the children echoing through the cavern. She gazed upon the chisel marks left on the rock walls and smiled. _How long did I work on this cavern with hand tools and rune detonations? I think it took me the better part of ten solar and lunar cycles. It pleases me to know that I was able to provide a safe haven for my family resulting from my hard work,_ she thought.

Tilaina followed the feint laughter and footsteps toward the study, a room that she had carved out of the rock to provide an area for a scroll library, instruction area, and a rune-scribing workshop.

"Here I come children. Have your clay tablets ready so that we can get right into the lesson," she said.

Up ahead she could see the outline of the door to the study. Green flashes of light emanated out from inside the chamber. _What could that be? What are those children up to?_ she thought. Tialina approached the door and as she was about to open it she heard the children screaming. Instinctually she burst into the chamber to discover what the disturbance was.

Tialina shrank back in horror when she gazed upon the large worm posturing threateningly in the middle of the study. She could tell that it was a young Olgoikhorkian because of its small size, but it was still taller than she was. The pockmarked and liver-spotted face flashed a wide, sinister grin at her as the worm slithered closer.

"Stay back! I'm warning you!" she yelled. Tialina reached into her shoulder bag a procured a small rune tablet, then activated it. The rune configuration crackled and hissed with energy in Tialina's hand. She drew her arm back to throw the rune that would explode on impact.

"Wait, wait! Grandma, don't do it! It's just an illusion," the Olgoikhorkian uttered. The worm faded away to reveal Stymphalides and Phoenicia standing there with fearful expressions on their faces.

"Children! What do you think you are doing? These illusion rune configurations are not playthings! We're still testing them and they are not to be trifled with!" Tialina growled.

"We're sorry, grandma. We just wanted to have a little fun," Phoenicia said, on the verge of tears.

"Don't cry, Phoenicia. Just heed my warning. This new realm is dangerous and filled with numerous threats. We will need to know how to use these runes in order to survive. Now then, let's get ready for the lesson."

"Yes, grandma!"

The children rushed over to their respective workstations; crude desks constructed from the timber that Tialina had collected from the surrounding forest. Each child rolled out deep red clay into flat slabs on the wooden plank surface of their desks. They both knew how to create rune tablets like professional rune-scribes already. Tialina had drilled them constantly in the skill, and they utilized Cosmic Clay that Tialina had found over years of digging up the surrounding countryside. Tialina assumed her position at the head of study. She had mounted a large clay tablet on the wall of the study, and it was framed with wood for teaching purposes.

The children clutched ornate styluses of metal that had been scavenged from the surrounding Imp settlements not far from the forest. They got ready to begin scribing as Tialina worked to layout a new rune on the large, wall-mounted tablet.

"Okay, Stymphalides; Phoenicia, I want the two of you to scribe this rune—"

"Tialina! Children! Where are you? Come quick!" a man's voice yelled.

"Father!"

"Papa!"

"Adamus? What is it, my son?" Tilaina asked. The three of them ran out of the study and into the corridor. There stood the childrens' father, Adamus, who was bruised and scraped. He was out of breath and leaned against the cavern wall for support. Stymphalides and Phoenicia ran to their father and gave an embrace at once. Adamus placed his arms around both of them.

"Oh, my children," he said.

"Adamus? What happened? Where is Chereska? Why is she not with you," Tialina asked. She rushed over to Adamus's side and looked him in the eyes. He hesitated to speak for a moment as he struggled to catch his breath.

"Where's mother, papa?" Phoenicia cried. Both children began to whimper.

"I-I was chased by those Imps. They call themselves 'humans'! Chereska and I were scavenging around a farm for supplies, disguised as humans. Apparently the runic illusion was not powerful enough, because the illusion didn't hold up. We were chased by many of the humans that tend the fields. They had four-legged demons chasing us," Adamus said, then he paused to compose himself.

"You don't mean to tell me that Chereska is dead?" Tialina said with a look of dread on her face. The children began to wail loudly.

"No, she's alive. At least I think she still is. The humans chased us, relentlessly. They kept calling us 'Chupacabra' or some such word. Chereska fell and was surrounded by the humans. They seemed more fascinated at her than wanting to do her harm. Anyway, I saw them take her to some kind of enclosure where she was thrown in with other beasts. That was the last I saw of her. Shortly after I was nearly caught by the humans' four-legged demons. I was attacked but I fought one off, but I didn't escape unscathed!" Adamus recounted. His head sank down to his chest.

"Don't despair everyone! I have been working on refining the illusion rune configurations. I think I can increase the duration of effectiveness. We must go back and rescue Chereska. The humans cannot be allowed to know we exist," Tialina exclaimed.

She marched off down the corridor toward the study, while the children helped their father, supporting him while he limped.

"What are we going to do, mother?" Adamus asked, seemingly puzzled.

"We are going to disguise ourselves as human thieves, and we will shall go poach some livestock from that human farm. Now, hurry and nurse your wounds as we leave within the hour," she stated.

Tialina rushed toward a large chest in the study to fetch rune tablets that she had scribed upon. For some strange reason she did not feel any fear. _My how it has been far too long since you have gone on an adventure, Tialina. Time for one last hurrah!_ she thought, as she hurried to get her gear together for the upcoming quest.

_EPILOGUE_

"No, Curator Rodrigo, I don't think that this planet has any viable technology of value to us, but it is an interesting case study,"

"What makes you say that, Collector O'Leary?"

"Well, for one, there seemed to have been a reliance on superstitious beliefs. They used a runic alphabet and from their writings they believed these runes possessed 'magic powers'. At some point their technological progress was abandoned and they reverted to a more primitive system."

"Do you mean to tell me that they held some degree of advanced technology and then shunned it for what they believed to be magical runes?"

"Exactly. It seemed to coincide with the appearance of these massive worm-like creatures coming into the fossil record. The hominids of this planet around that time seemed to suffer a reduction in their cranial capacity and thus their brain size."

"So, do you think that these worms had something to do with the fall of the civilization?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that they caused the downfall of the civilization, but they definitely had a role in changing the culture of the hominids. Some of the writings from this time celebrate the taste of a liquid called 'Ichor'. I think it might have been some kind of alcohol that the worms brewed. Whatever it was, the hominids developed quite a thirst for it, and they seemed to allow themselves to fall into a type of 'indentured servitude' to acquire the liquid. The sources are vague. At any rate, the hominids and the worms seemed to have developed a symbiotic relationship."

"This is an interesting arrangement. Do you know how the relationship functioned?"

"Curator, it appears that the giant worms fed off the runes that the humans thought were magical, and in return the humans would collect the golden liquid on an industrial scale, from what looked to be massive mammary glands. But, this is only conjecture on my part."

"Whatever made them happy, I suppose. Who are we to judge?"

"Yes, well, what is your assessment, Curator?"

"This dimension has nothing to offer our museum. Let us depart for the next one."

"Very well."

"It is a shame that the planet did not have more to offer the United Multidimensional League save for parasites and slaves. In my humble opinion, Curator, I do not believe that the relationship was symbiotic."

"What is your basis for this opinion, Collector?"

"The humans were addicted to this substance that the worms gave them, and thus they were slaves to their addiction."

"I concur. It is time for us to depart."

The Curator sent a mental command to the Living Ship that they were aboard. The vessel lifted off the surface, rising high into the thin atmosphere. The living ship took on the color and texture of the surrounding sky, blending in perfectly, then, it was gone.
**Like What You Read?**

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**Acknowledgements:**

Debra Payne, Professor Magnet, Jon Toler, S. Buck, L.N. Denison, My Friend & Family, Beta readers, Reviewers, and Critiquers. Also, anyone who purchased my books.

**Inquiries should be emailed to:**

Lars Teeney

apostates.feedback@gmail.com

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**About the author:**

Lars Teeney was born in Montana. After going to an art school in San Francisco and working for years as a freelance designer for the start-up culture, he became burnt out. He abandoned the Bay Area for the Pacific North-west, where he could hike and bike to his heart's content. He has worked for a variety of technology companies and has a keen passion for politics, history, science and art.

**Other Books by Lars Teeney:**

**The Apostates Series**

New Megiddo Rising: An Apostates Novella

The Apostates Book One

The Apostates Book Two: Remnants

The Apostates Book Three: Lake of Fire
