Whispers Of The Past

“ And then what happened?“ Akki asked Kronos eagerly, his voice higher than usual due to excitement. His eyes shone as he waited for Kronos to finish his mouthful of disgusting white slop. Kronos grimaced at the foul taste as he forced it down his throat. What do they put in this?! He asked himself, not for the first time. Perhaps I shouldn’t know. He looked at his captive audience of one and continued telling him of the events.

“ We eventually found the one we were looking for. Calypso didn’t even give him a chance to defend himself. She was in a bad mood by the time she could deal with him, which is never a good thing. She tortured every single member of his family before his eyes until they died. But she didn’t kill the target himself; instead, she had him taken prisoner. I’m sure she’s going to put him through something even worse.”

“ Didn’t you try and stop her?” Aikki asked, his eyes wide.

“ And what could I have hoped to do?” Kronos asked dryly. “ She isn’t exactly pleasant to deal with when she’s in a good mood. When angry or annoyed, it’s best to let her go about her business.” Kronos didn’t bother telling Aikki about his upcoming battle with Calypso, excluding Arai. In fact, he hadn’t told anyone in the four days since they had returned to the prison camp. I already know my death is all but assured; I don’t need others to tell me.

“ Kronos. Your allotted meal time has passed,” came a voice from behind him. When Kronos turned his head, he saw it was Agrippa flanked by two guards looking at Kronos as if he were something repulsive. With a sigh, Kronos nodded goodbye at Aikki and stood up. He felt all eyes on him as he left the mess hall and knew each state belonged to someone curious as to why his treatment at the prison camp had altered so drastically since coming back.

He spent most of his day stuck in a room, forced to analyze a manifestation of the doors Kronos and company had found before fighting the Untri, courtesy of Arai’s my Tribal Trait. When he was not doing that, he was in the training hall with Arai, trying desperately to become up to par with Calypso. Not that I have a prayer against her, Kronos thought as he was escorted to a small private library and to the room that had become his study. Inside was a singular bookshelf crammed with leatherback books; a wooden chair pushed up to a small round wooden table covered in books, ink bottles, quills, and parchment.

After making sure he was alone, Kronos grabbed a piece of parchment and looked towards the far wall where his topic of study had been manifested. He hated to admit it, but he was grateful to Calypso for forcing things to do this. He had always dreamed of one day being able to research the Third People once he was permitted to retire from Sintar Military Service.

“ Alright, where did I leave off?” Kronos wondered out loud as he shifted through his notes. He grabbed a parchment and began to read the words scribbled on it.

“ Faef’ynn Sosey’nn Rafol Asaffey,” Kronos muttered out loud before translating. “ May The Paragon’s light show the way.” Just then, a faint light green glow caught his attention. Looking up from the parchment, he noticed the glow the light was coming from the doors. Frowning, Kronos walked over to it and hesitantly placed his hand on the door. It was cold as ice and hummed. It’s almost like I can hear a melody. One of sorrow and loss.

Kronos could feel his eyelids growing heavy. Before he could register what was happening, he felt himself falling forward, eyes closing.

“ Slo’urr! Slo’urr!” Came a ghostly voice. Blinking, Kronos looked behind him to see an ethereal man standing behind him. He was bald with a knelt beard and wore a hooded robe.

“ Who?” Kronos asked, shrouded at the sound of his voice. It was older and more gravelly as if it had aged several decades. The ethereal man leered at him as if he were mad.

“ Take not leave of senses, Slo’urr! Dawn approaches, swift we must be.” Seeing no other choice, Kronos followed this being as he walked away, his mind whirling. Where was he, and how did he get here? And why was he being referred to as Slo’urr? Kronos recognized the word as Lordean but didn’t know the meaning.

Kronos followed the ghostly figure through a maze of corridors, dimly lit by torches. As Kronos walked, he noticed his surroundings were eerily similar, as if he had been here before.

“ Hold on…. I recognize these carvings,” Kronos muttered under his breath.

“ What was that, Slo’urr?” Asked the mystery companion of Kronos.

“ Oh, err, nothing,” Kronos stammered. He hurried after the figure once more, eyes fixated on the carvings. ‘ There’s no mistake. These are the same carvings with Calypso,’ Kronos thought to himself. ‘ Which means… I must have traveled back to the last! Could it be? Am I… among the Lordean?!

Kronos felt a thrill pass through his body. What any other researcher would give to be him right now, amongst the Lordean! He was unsure how he got here, but excitement began to fill his body as he followed his guide through a maze of corridors. Kronos looked around, a big smile on his face. He wanted to drink it all in, his mind frantically trying to memorize all his eyes saw.

Kronos felt like squeaking like a child once he was led to the same room Kronos had discovered the writing referring to The Paragon. Except it looked very different from before. A fire warmed the room with a round stone table behind it. The depiction of the Paragon looked over a small delegation of ghostly figures sitting at the stone table. Kneeling in front of the small group of ghostly figures was yet another phantom, one with a burlap sack around its head, trembling and whimpering.

“ Brother Slo’urr. Perform the honors,” came a deep vibrant voice, as if multiple men had spoken at once. Kronos looked around the room, bewildered as to what they could mean. An ornate, wickedly curved dagger appeared in his right hand. Kronos was soon able to piece together what was required of him.

“ Oh no…. No,” Kronos said, trying to release the dagger. However, it was as if the blade was welded to his hand, and to the horror of Kronos, he started moving towards the trembling captive against his will. No! No! Kronos shouted inwardly, trying to force his feet to keep from moving in vain. Kronos felt his arm prepare to stab the poor wretch. Having no other options, Kronos closed his eyes.

He felt himself stab the captive and heard a blood curdling scream and the murmurings of approval from his audience. When he opened his eyes, the prisoner had vanished, as if never been there. Even though it was a phantom, Kronos felt sick to his stomach. ‘ That was so wrong. So wrong.’ Rumbling caused Kronos to snap back from his thoughts. The phantoms stood to their feet and shouted excitedly as the rumbling threw Kronos off his feet.

‘ The room has become frigid, despite the fire. Something’s coming,’ Kronos thought. The ground opened up, and through the opening came the most horrible roar Kronos had ever heard. The high-pitched, raspy, vibrant roar caused the walls to shake. Kronos clenched his teeth and swallowed his fear. There was the promise of bloodshed and death in the cry. Trembling, unable to move, he watched a gnarled scaled hand emerge from the hole.

It was dark forest green with jagged claws. The ground underneath the hand began to melt. Kronos heard shrieks of terror fill the air as he stood, unable to move. He violently trembled as The Paragon made flesh slowly crawled out of the hole and let out one last bone-chilling roar…

Kronos gasped as he jolted away, covered in sweat. The bed he was lying in was soaked, as were his clothes.

“ Where am I?” he muttered, looking around. He was in a small room with two rows of small beds with charts on the stone wall alongside framed pictures of the glories of the Sintar and small collections of herbs on end tables beside the beds.

“ You’re in the infirmary,” came a voice to his left. When Kronos looked to address who had spoken, he saw Calypso sitting in a chair, her face unreadable. “ You were found unconscious in the room I afforded you. I don’t recall saying you could nap when you desire, Half-Breed.” Kronos stared at her, unsure how to react to her being there.

“ I wasn’t taking a nap,” he told her before recounting what had occurred to him. “ It was terrible. I was paralyzed with fear; I had never felt that way before. I watched The Paragon made flesh emerge. I’m not sure what it was, but I do know we can’t allow it to happen.” Calypso stared at Kronos with wide, scared eyes and then placed a hand on his shoulder. Kronos flinched but didn’t draw away as Calypso looked around to make sure they were alone before putting her mouth to his ear.

“ We need to talk.”