Black Pit of Death

Arriving at the place that sanctioned the passes for entrance into the military encampment—-or that's what the duo—Arthur and Michael—came to call it—was not the hard part. 

However, getting inside the establishment with the delusive horns fuelled by the unassuming artefact, acting as a natural denizen of Eden and getting the pass without raising any kind of suspicion was the actual cumbersome task. 

With Michael in the lead and Arthur standing right behind him, towards his left, the two looked up at the sign before letting out a synchronised nervous, yet mollifyingly excited breath. 

The structure of the establishment, overall, was not exactly huge or imposing. As a matter of fact, it paled in comparison to even the chintziest offices on Earth. 

It was a decent-sized, square-shaped shack spanning about 50 metres in width and 50 metres in height. The material used in construction seemed to be wood of different dull colours, worn out due to the harsh weather. 

The myriad of colours included light red, green, blue, yellow, black, grey and white. With the whole cube-like shape and blocks of different kinds of materials in different colours, the shack looked more like a ginormous Rubik's cube than a place that held such strong importance. 

With another steady, determined breath, the two of them walked in. 

The door opened and a heavy breeze blew carrying the musty, nauseating stench of some kind of alcohol mixed in with every other disgusting thing. 

Michael breathed out from his nose, a huge frown appearing on his face. While Arthur slipped even further behind him. Acting like his shadow. 

The inside of the shack had minimalistic decorations with a few scenic pictures hanging from the walls, some tilted at an unusual angle and some having cracked glass surfaces. On the other side were 3 swords hung from the wall that reminded Arthur of ancient European claymores. 

There was no specific seating arrangement. 

Round tables lined almost every nook-and-cranny of the establishment and chairs made of the same material, roughly 4 of them, were around every table. 

People of different races were sitting on those chairs. 

Most of them were Trolls. 

With body proportions that consisted more of fat than muscle, each of them was twice as tall as Michael and Arthur. 

Arthur's gaze washed over most of them and then landed straight at the one behind the counter. The one emitting the most potent form of Arcanum that spilled outwards and filled the entire place like stagnant water in a pond. The commanding force keeping everything in place.

And it was true as well. 

This place is more like a pub than a ticket sanctioning place. He thought. And at the same time this place is way too organised for a place like a pub. Especially when everyone is so hopelessly plastered and hammered. 

As he was looking straight at the one beside the counter, the Troll jerked its head back at him. 

His body was exorbitantly hulking and imposing—even when surrounded by others of the same species—consisting of a mass of sinewy muscles that bulged beneath the chiton that seemed to be made of the hide of a green coloured monster. 

His back was mostly exposed, showing off the jagged ridges all along the cream-coloured skin, right over its spine like the miniature peaks of distant mountains. 

From beneath his thick brow—that could pass as a small bush—his single, inverted eye narrowed sideways as it peered at Michael. 

"He looks like a derpy version of the Hulk." Michael snickered to himself as Arthur struggled to listen to what he was saying. 

The other trolls and some other species spared one look at the duo before returning either going back to sleep while losing consciousness or to drinking. 

A few murmurs of 'Damned Imperialists' echoed; however, they were drowned out by the clatter of cups falling from the tray of a young woman who didn't have any outlandish features of the other species. Just simple human-like features with black hair and a pair of dull maroon eyes. 

Her ears were slightly rounder than a human's and she was a bit on the chubby side. 

"And that shawty's a dwarf." Michael commented again. 

Although Arthur heard it this time, his inability to keep up with trends or slang words rendered him unable to understand what he said. Shrugging it off as just another thing he couldn't quite grasp, he turned his attention back at the main troll who was still looking at Michael from the corner of his vertically oriented eye. 

His broad nose, like the prow of a ship, flared as he breathed, and his thick, meaty lips were drawn back in a perpetual frown.

Tufts of coarse hair sprouted from its oversized ears. From the way they hung down from the side of his head, Arthur wondered if they were even functional. 

As the two of them reached the counter, Michael banged both his hands on the table. 

The bottles on the table and in the small shelf behind all shivered as he clicked his tongue. 

'What happened to staying discreet!'

As the troll turned around and walked over to the counter, his shadow covered both Arthur and Michael. 

Michael's horns were poking into his hood, stretching it upwards. 

The troll folded his giant, meaty arms and stared at them with his single eye. The horns had made him uncomfortable, however, he kept his composure. 

Meanwhile Arthur and Michael kept silent because they could not signify the language used outside on the board. One wrong move and they both could end up in a tight spot. 

Trolls were known for their herculean strength and contend for a spot in the top 5 amongst all species for brute strength. 

On top of that, IF a troll was smart enough to make use of a species-specific Arcane Art, they were truly a force to be reckoned with. 

That was why even someone as Michael who believed in solving everything via violence and pure strength was being cautious. Also, due to the fact that they were children and any adult denizen of Eden with an arcane art could more or less put up an extremely troublesome fight.

After a few seconds of tense stare down between Michael and the troll, Arthur shifted uncomfortably before placing his hand on the counter and then receding it quietly, leaving behind a Glimmerstone. 

"Lord Cromwell is not very fond of waiting for long durations. I suggest you give us what we want, unless you want to end up like the others." Arthur whispered, keeping his hood low enough to not give away his features at all. 

The translucent and sapphire coin was beautiful and totally stark against the stained surface of the pub counter. 

The dusty brown coloured iris inside the troll's vertical eye shifted sideways, taking a quick glance at his surroundings before quickly pulling the coin. Quickly he pushed the coin into his pocket before crouching downwards, and retrieving something from underneath the counter. 

After a while of fiddling and throwing things around he took out a silver medallion. It was a sun shaped medallion with even the rays of sun carved out. 

The rays look like sperm. It's like a kid drew it. They really don't know what they're doing. Are they quite behind in the astrology field? Arthur mused to himself. 

The Troll—Hagrid, if the lady was not lying about his name—casted one sidelong glance at the two boys before parting his lips and speaking for the first time. "The Young Lord… Enter 'The Keep'… Free!" And then he slid the Glimmerstone back towards the boys. "Test…me? Procedure? This… Young Lord… take this back!" He slipped the Glimmerstone back. "Too much."

Arthur shifted his head back towards him. 

He couldn't really tell if it was the Troll's normal way to talk or it's just having difficulty talking in the same language as the supposed "Young Lord" of "The Cromwells."

Michael frowned and pushed the coin back. 

Hagrid somewhat flinched, and then with a covetous rub of his hands and a savouring pass of his lips, he quickly returned the Glimmerstone to his pocket and bowed subtly. "Long Live… King."

Michael snorted and then turned around. Michael's reaction did incite a horrible look on Hagrid's face. 

Arthur lowered his head in his direction and then he turned around as well. 

Exiting the pub, they immediately left for the main entrance. 

"This isn't Earth." Arthur hissed. 

"Whatever. Hearing that phrase always makes me laugh." He replied without looking back. "Everyone deserves freedom. Fuck's wrong with people saying stuff like Long Live blah blah. And they say with their chest too." Michael mocked. 

"How ironic of you to talk about freedom being something that everyone deserves."

Michael let out another snort. "Want me to laugh?"

"If you like insults being thrown at you, then be my guest. Laugh all you want." Arthur replied with a roll of his eyes. "Everyone has preferences. I won't judge."

"Hah! You think you're being slick, aren't ya!"

"Perhaps." Arthur replied and his head suddenly jerked back as he felt a massive ripple in the sky. But it wasn't just in the sky. 

Far away, from beyond the dome that separated the two dimensions, a force shook the naturally occurring fields not only on Earth, but its force was felt over in Eden as well and the translucent dome shuddered like the loose window of a car. 

"What's up?" Michael asked, turning his head around. 

He rarely saw Arthur react so much. 

"I felt my fathe—" He paused midway. "—it's nothing. I just zoned out."

"It's only been a few hours since you've left your lover girl and you've already committed a murder and are now zoning out. Don't tell me "you" of all the people in the world need a compass to function or you'll crumble."

Arthur scoffed through his nose. "I have yet to comprehend the reason why you and Maria- or even the others think we are together." He paused, as if finding the right words. "Your besottedness when it comes to matters related to me is even more baffling. It's unhealthy, you know-" He gave Michael a sidelong glance as he tried to look towards the weirdly shaped sun. 

"You're just ignorant." Michael replied. However, his voice lacked the usual scorn and pompousness. "You might understand stuff better than me, but you are ignorant when it comes to yourself." He kept walking, not sparing a glance back at Arthur. "You're being so defensive. Like chill for a sec there lil' bro. It's not that deep. You can just say you are not dating and end it there."

"Clearing the doubt and leaving no room for the argument to sprout out again is the best course of action. If I do not do it, I am sure you will bring it up numerous times again. And truth be told-" He cracked his neck. "-it's starting to get on my nerves as well."

Michael smirked, breaking the scowl that was ever present while talking to Arthur due to the perpetual conflict of interest. "Hmph. All the more reason for me to say it again and again."

Arthur let out a tired sigh. "You know there are no rules applicable in Eden, right? I can just say a Troll ate you as a casual dinner."

Michael let out a defiant laugh, his voice turning into a distant echo by the time he spoke. "I'd like to see the day when you can actually do something instead of yapping 24/7." And then in a mocking way, he flicked the few strands away from his face. "Oh apologies. I meant, 'chattering' 24/7. Jabbering. Palavering. Nattering!"

"I know what yapping means, Michael."

"A day to be remembered." He scoffed once again. "A day where Arthur Olvasen isn't a killjoy and the creator of awkward moments."

Arthur sighed once again. I want to go back to Hammerfest!!!!!! He cried internally. 

"Your parents must love you for the foul mouth you have."

"And your parents must really love you for no particular reason." 

Arthur looked down at his feet, his mood taking a complete turn. His voice turned heavy as I replied. "I suppose so." As he absently stirred the dirt with his shoe, his posture seemed to wilt further. "In their own twisted ways."

Michael looked over his shoulder, stealing a glance at him before biting back the sardonic remark. "Hmm." He merely hummed to himself and his features softened, any hints of mockery and hate evaporating into thin air. 

After a few minutes of silently walking and letting the sun's heat boil up their skins, the roar of a creature brought them out of their silent, mindless stupor. 

Looking up, both of them saw a creature that looked like a chimaera between an Ostrich and a Lizard. It had the signature legs of the Ostrich in a pale brown colour. Its body stretched long and lean, covered in scales instead of feathers and lacked the vibrant sheen associated with scales in novels and movies, appearing dull and lifeless instead. 

Atop its long neck sat a lizard-like head, complete with sharp slit-eyes and a mouth lined with pointed teeth. Two arms protruded from its body, resembling those of a kangaroo. Overall, it felt more like a chimaera than an actual animal. 

"What on bloody Earth did they do to make this retarded looking…I dunno, shit? It's a big chunk of shit, is what it is. I can't even describe it!" Michael commented in bewilderment at the creature- or rather, animal of this world. 

"No one asked you to describe it, Young Lord." Arthur remarked sarcastically, the shadow of the pensive cloud that loomed over him a while ago already drifting away. 

As he said that, Arthur raised his arm upward. The two men—one sitting on the chimaera and the other resting his weight against the giant metal door that was bleached off its colour—looked in their direction, instantly, identifying the medallion. 

The sun shaped medallion with the sun's rays spreading in every direction. 

The man sitting on the chimaera looked from underneath his brown hood at the two boys and got off his mount. He was almost the same height as both Arthur and Michael.

Wearing a tight, brown leather armour, the man had a pale skin that rivalled even Arthur's. While he was wearing a hood over his head, much of his features were obscured but even the veil of clothing couldn't completely mask the scarlet red eyes and the straight horns that extended out from the hood without tangling with the cloth. 

Unlike Michael's which had grooves all around it, the man's horn was much smaller and much smoother. 

He looked at the two with a lazy glance and then shook his head towards the other man. 

The other man was not wearing the hood. 

He was a rather short man and had a chubby face with slanted crimson eyes and a mix of dirty brown and black hair styled as rough bangs all over his forehead that stopped right over his brows. And right where his hair stopped, two small stubs protrude outwards, barely 2 inches in length.

"No way this son of a gun has a bowl cut." Michael snickered. 

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all." Michael replied and then turned back with a sneer. "Unless you love getting bullied and thrashed around, that is."

"Sounds like someone you'd love to pick on." Arthur retorted as the man timidly opened the giant door with a single push of his short arms. 

"Geeks like these should be bullied." He snorted. The frown on his features eased out as the man bowed to him. "Or not. Whatever. It's fucking ugly." 

Saying that out loud, the two men suddenly jumped and stood to the side. Whether it was due to the fact that they got scared, or heard a language they never heard before, the reason behind their sudden fright was bound to stay hidden. 

As the two boys took their first step inside, a chilling wave washed over them. 

The two of them looked up, just a little, and then turned in a full circle before coming face to face with each other. 

"You can't be serious."

"Fuck me....and fuck these peasants."

The two of them exclaimed.