The Captive Gheckla (02)

The water coalesced around Alban's outstretched index finger, the tip of which pointing at a tree. A small crescent quickly sat along the pointer that aimed for not the tree, but whatever was behind it. His eyes were narrowed, his deep bronze irises holding a narrow black slit that was only faintly visible. The air of ferocity surrounded the questionably human, cloaking him in a feral mien.

Lat walked past the tree and was met with a water crescent passing him by, narrowly grazing his skin. The condensed water slashed into the tree he had left behind instead, and glaring deep imprint was all that was left of the water that hit it. Lat felt as if he had only just barely escaped death, to which he was right.

As he stared at the youth before him, he raised his hands in an attempt to show he meant no harm. 'Strange...' he thought. He had held the impression that death didn't mean much to him at all anymore, he had already given up his life once before. So why...did he feel so afraid of the savage looking man before him? It didn't make sense at all to the gheckla, not one bit.

Alban gazed at the gheckla, his fierce eyes thoroughly inspecting his every movement. His eyes drifted over the long scars that marred Lat's body, bringing the three imps that he viewed as family to mind. He knew they were safe though, so he didn't dwell on the thought for long. But the slight familiarity that he felt when he peered at Lat's scars had already changed his demeanor. Instead of wanting to kill the guy if he made even one move he found suspicious, he decided to give him a bit more leeway. The wild aura seeped back into his body, a considerable amount of pressure being lifted from the man before him.

Alban stared at Lat, waiting for him to explain why he was here. Lat stared back, wanting to talk but still trying to get over the fact that he had barely regained the ability to breathe. The two stared at each other in silence, one inquisitive and the getting his bearings.

"Hey, friend. Tell the guy to speak up, yeah? I'm getting bored." Lark's voice sounded out, breaking the quietness that befell the two. The whispers were bothering him yet again, and he felt a headache coming on. 'How irritating...'

"I'm waiting for him to say something, so I'm in the same boat Lark." Alban's intent observation paused for a bit, in an attempt to see if it would be a bit easier for the gulping gheckla to speak if he stopped eyeing him. To his surprise, Lat spoke up.

"Uh, hey...?" Lat scratched at his ragged shirt for a bit before bringing to mind what he had to say. Alban's eyes pointed at him again, and although he was still very much alarmed by them he continued on, not wanting to be halted again.

"I er, I need some help, yea? Sir, do ya remember those round blobs that call themselves gheckla?"

"Ha! Good one." Chiyo snorted at that, remembering the good old days where she could insult those stuck up spheres for a good hour. Lat smiled a bit, though his expression became unbearably solemn.

"I would like ya to help me kill them all. Please." A leveled and firm resolve radiated from Lat's visage, his body becoming so still he could hardly breathe again. This was it. This would decide how soon he could free his people. If anyone claimed that he wasn't a little anxious about this moment, it would be a blatant lie.

"'kay. I didn't really like them, either." A sigh of relief escaped from Lat's hushed lips. His rigid frame slackened up a bit, his anxiety greatly assuaged by the easy confirmation. He didn't completely let loose though, nothing was ever that easy in Nightmare. His hard life had taught him well, although the scars he had gained from it would never fade.

"Alban! What did I say about randomly killing things without a good reason?" Chiyo was understandably pretty upset. She had tried her hardest to keep Alban the healthiest he could be, worried that the...incident changed him.

It definitely did, it made him even less civilized and less and less reverent of life. Well, less reverent in the respect that he now hardly hesitated to kill, not even needing a reason to do so. She didn't like where it seemed he was heading, but she would still accept him regardless. She just...wanted to let him be as he was for a bit longer. Even if it was just a little.

"Ah...okay. Can you explain the reason then? If it's good enough I'll do it." Alban sheepishly scratched at his long hair, reluctantly accepting that letting off steam on people you didn't like wasn't a good enough reason massacre them. He had noticed his own abrupt change but could really do nothing about it, as time passed it felt more and more normal. That wasn't to say he was a monster that couldn't reason at all, as all of his mental faculties and judgement still remained. It was just a bit easier to bring himself to harm others, that was all.

"My people. They're slaves. Those bastards that are all so sickeningly unhealthy are much more than assholes with a nobility complex. They are cruel, depraved, and disgusting. And my people cannot escape."

"It can't be because of death, right? Unless they have an artifact that restricts the range of where you can revive it'd be pretty hard to make all of you behave." Lark interjected at this point, guiding Lat along in his asseverations. He had already arrived at the crux of his question when he noticed the collar that was normally around the human headed gheckla's necks was missing from Lat's. The whispers gave him a bit of a clue on how the solemn man had escaped as well...although he couldn't quite be sure.

"It's because of death. We gheckla have been cursed by a powerful god in our past, and we only have one life. These collars...they explode. That's why..." Lat's voice wavered. He was unaware of the tears that fell from his face, the clear droplets smacking across the ground. He paused, taking a deep breath, and then continued. "They explode whenever those bastards decide that someone is being a bit too rebellious. These Gizzard Clippers make it impossible to avoid death. I would know, it killed me too."

That confirmed Lark's suspicions. Only a star would be able to revive when a rule was supposed to restrict it. You could trap a star in a restricted area of revival, sure. But you couldn't prevent it.

"I see. I think that's more than enough of a reason to help, don't you two think?"

"You don't have to ask me, friend. It's your decision."

"Um, yeah it's definitely justified. Sorry."

Lat gulped once more, waiting to hear the answer he had wanted all this time. Alban walked up to him and nodded, before stopping and gazing back at Lark and Chiyo.

"You should go. Too many people moving at once would make it a lot harder to save all those people." Chiyo was getting ready to follow after Alban before she unwillingly sat down. Lark was right.

Alban realized the two weren't coming and remembered the party function. He added both of his comrades to his party, taking in the two new sets of bars that were full. Assured that he would be able to at least know if they were safe or not, he turned back to Lat.

"Let's get going."