Chapter 4 - Malus

Atzi put claw over claw over claw as she tried to get up from the ground. Despite her panic, she instinctively avoided striking the helmet.

Need to find a safe place, safe- aha!

Atzi abandoned her attempts to upright herself and instead skittered over to a stone manhole cover. She lifted it and climbed down the ladder bars backwards, keeping the cover up long enough to slip fully inside, and then carefully, noiselessly, slowly lowered it down.

She held her breath.

The metal boots above her caused her heart to thump in time with them as they got ever closer.

C’mon, go away…

And then the boots stomped away.

Atzi didn’t exit immediately. She didn’t expect the guard head to be paranoid enough to fake leaving, but it was her habit to always follow through on hiding until she knew for sure she was safe.

After she could no longer hold her breath, she took a deep one and immediately regretted it. Back in the slums, there was an area everyone avoided building shacks near, where there was a big chunk of the sewer split open and flowing into the swamp. Atzi had never bothered to learn the paths beneath the city. I’m above this garbage.

Safe, she lifted the cover and slid out, then slinked her way home. Along the way, she overheard two drunk men.

“-and somehow he’s got a lot of money now.”

“What, rich uncle or somethin’?”

“Dunno, but man was on his last leg. You know we were expecting him to keel over. Now he’s drinking every night away like he’s got bottomless pockets.”

“Damn lucky bastard.”

Someone out drinking with a lot of money. I wonder if Parish knows the guy…

She resolved to ask him tomorrow, and soon after slipped into the makeshift blankets she called a bed. But not before storing her last coin under her loose floorboards, where it’d be safest through the night.

===

Why are there so many damned people outside? Atzi asked herself first thing come her afternoon awakening, the sheer talk and chatter preventing her from even waking up slowly.

When she looked, there were tons of people she didn’t recognize at all, crammed into the streets. They had lots of stuff with them, bags and barrels and knapsacks, with many of them sitting on this pile of goods.

Atzi quickly went to dress herself, only to notice the pillar that held up her roof had a messy horizontal crack in it. Uh oh. It must’ve happened during that huge explosion yesterday. That’s really bad… I can’t get a new shack. It was holding up the weight for now, but one wrong move and the whole shack could come crashing down. But maybe if the second job pays well enough, I could finally move somewhere better!

More carefully than usual she grabbed her clothes and, more quickly, threw them on. She made sure to retrieve her bronze beneath the floor then headed out to listen in.

The closest person she saw was a muscular man with a missing leg, freshly wrapped red bandages around it. He looked like some kind of warrior with his white bear pelt cape. He spoke to three other men, “You don’t cause trouble for the rest of us. Or else.”

The tallest of the three other men ran his hand through his messy blonde hair. “Hey, when have we ever caused trouble?” He gave a clean yet insincere smile. Atzi mentally labeled him stooge one.

The shortest, with a shifty look in his eyes, got upset. “Yeah, don’t go making assumptions about us!” He spoke with his whole body, motioning overly-dramatically as his arms swung out and in. He would be stooge two.

Between the two was a shy looking guy, wiry and perspiring. “O-okay,” said stooge three.

Maybe all these people are from outside? Related to the explosion?

A woman wrapped in several layers of cloth strided over and handed the warrior a cup of water. She wasn’t bad looking, but she wasn’t Atzi’s type. Too thin. Not that she wouldn’t still- “Does it still hurt?” she asked the warrior.

“Hey, where’s our water?” asked stooge two.

The woman ignored him.

“Not as bad as I expected.” The warrior tried moving his severed leg, gritting his teeth and sweating. Moments later he heaved a huge breath and drank the water. “I’ll be better in no time.”

The woman rested a hand on his chest. “Don’t push yourself.”

Atzi slinked closer. I don’t like talking to people, but I wanna know what happened out there. She caught their attention with an awkward wave. “Hey… did you come from outside?”

They all raised eyebrows at her. The woman asked, “You haven’t heard?”

“I heard the big explosion. What was it?”

“Novae is gone. The entire city. Blown up.”

“Oh. Oh shit.” An entire city. Gone. What the hells caused that?!

“Most of us decided to follow the Ancestor here, though a few survivors went to Eastern Novae.”

Atzi searched for how to respond.

“Least it’s warmer here, right?”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The refugee woman was silent.

“Fuck off!” Stooge one screamed.

Atzi hiccupped and quickly made herself scarce.

The market street was chaos today. There weren’t just more people, but everyone was buying up everything due to the rumors of war. Yesterday they were common, but today they were everywhere.

“-hope it doesn’t-”

“My uncle said-”

“-kids are scared.”

Shut up! It’s not like we can do anything about it!

Atzi had more important matters. Like her job later today, or finding out about the rich drunk. She entered Parish’s for precisely that, plus a meal.

-

“How’s business lately?” she asked in the middle of chewing a pork bun, hot outside and cold inside.

It wasn't like undercooked food would hurt her thanks to her swamp dragon blood, and she'd eaten worse things besides.

He smiled. “Slow today. It will pick up tonight, though. Always does.”

“Got some big spenders again?”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t believe. This one guy is sucking down drinks like his blood is made of the stuff. Won’t stop crying, either.”

That’s gotta be him. “Wow. Who is it?”

“Braun? Braun. Used to be a military guy, long time ago. Now he’s a fatass. A rich fatass, apparently.”

I’m coming here after the job. The rich get richer and I’m gonna be so rich!

Atzi finished her meal, beer too of course, and handed Parish her last coin. For now.

It was time for the job.

-

“Job’s delayed. Two nights from now.”

Atzi's eyes widened, and she thumped her tail against the ground. Fence had already gotten the shack ‘clean’ again, which meant the garbage was taking up only half instead of the whole place.

“I spent my last coins already! I thought I was getting gold tonight! How am I meant to eat?”

Fence stared at her like she was stupid. “You should feel lucky the job’s on at all. Apparently the war rumors are making the guards go crazy. Lots of refugees who had the job in Novae are being added to the ranks, too.”

Atzi recalled what she overheard last night. “They’re banned from drinking or gambling now. They seem pretty pissed about it.” Which they deserve. “Bunch of stupid guards piling into the inn while I’m trying to eat.”

“Wow, sucks to be them. Especially after you deliver the payload.” Fence laughed.

Atzi joined with a short, awkward laugh of her own. “So. Uh. Two nights from now…? I’ll scrape by I guess…” Good thing I already have a backup plan. I’m so smart.

“That’s right! Because you’re a scraper! Scrappiest scraper I’ve ever met.”

Is that a compliment?

A loud bell echoed through Sostra. Its deep and resonant gonging was something people could feel in their bones.

Atzi flinched, looking around by instinct. The temple bells?

“They’re announcing something?” Atzi asked.

“Probably about the explosion.” Fence shrugged.

“Hey, if it’s a war, does that mean most of the guards will be off on the frontlines?”

“No clue. I ain’t an expert in that military shit.”

“Less guards is always a good thing. Maybe more jobs after these two…?”

Fence slithered their forked tongue. “You do well on these two jobs and you’ll have more jobs than you know what to do with.”

Atzi gave a dumb smile. I’m gonna be big again.

She had time to kill before she went to rob Braun tonight, so she decided to head to the religious district to listen in on the announcement. Fence didn’t go with her, citing soreness. They’re just lazy. I never hear about them stealing anything.

The path to the district involved first passing by the arena, then up gradually ascending stone streets until reaching the circular platform that sat raised in the northmost part of Sostra. It felt like half the city was traveling with her, the way she was caught between people.

Stop pushing against my tail!

She was finally freed when she got there, parting from the crowd for a breather.

The religious district had a few names. Officially it was the ‘District of Gods and Prophets’, semi-officially the religious district, and most people just called it the temple district. In its center was the council’s temple, where the godscouncil would be held, which hosted the bell that summoned everyone here, and under which the crowd stood, awaiting word.

In a semi circle around it were the nine temples to the nine gods of Sostra.

The Crow. The Demon. The Dragon. The Ancestor. The Saintess. The Water. The Star. The Serpent. The Shapeshifter.

All of them had a statue out front, save the Star. Atzi’s favorite statue was the Serpent’s, because she had her tits out.

Further back from these were wooden temples erected for minor, godless faiths. Sostra permitted any religion, no matter its origin, to preach its tenets and gather believers. It’s really annoying when people shout atop soapboxes.

The crowd murmured as someone stepped out onto the central temple’s balcony. Atzi slinked back over towards the crowd, on edge where she’d be free to stretch.

It was then she saw the figure.

Arch Priestess Malus, prophet to the Saintess, lifted an arm adorned in heavy white and red robes, silencing the crowd.

Her left eye was closed, covered by a seared scar running through it. Her other, red eye gazed imperiously down. She wore a serious expression on her somewhat wrinkled face, her gold and grey hair flowing behind her.

“People of Sostra!” she announced so loudly, Atzi wondered how. Not that she’d ask. She’d heard rumors Malus melted an entire army of Dyme's back in the war.

There’s a reason nobody tries robbing the temples.

“What happened yesterday was a tragedy. The brave and wondrous people of Novae had their home destroyed. Many died. Most died.”

Malus paused, dropping her arm.

“We have determined the culprit.”

It wasn’t me, a small part of Atzi said inside.

The Saintess of Sostra walked onto the balcony.

The crowd erupted into reverent chanting, praying, and kneeling. Atzi gave a small prayer too, just to not stand out.

The Saintess was wrapped in cloth bandages, head to toe. The holy shroud, her followers called it. The only part of her body visible was her long black hair, moving down both sides of her body in two large braids. She wore nothing else but a golden amulet around her neck, embedded with a large rhombic white crystal.

Nobody knew what she really looked like, but she had founded the Empire, and was elected the ruling god at every godscouncil since.

Before the crowd could calm, a third figure emerged. The Ancestor, seven feet tall and impossibly muscular, with a large and wild mane of red and brown hair. Both his ears were pierced several times through with bronze spikes, and red symbols spread across his face in an intricate pattern that emphasized his fearsome look.

His followers said he was the first human. The human before all other humans, from which all humanity began.

When Atzi heard that legend for the first time, she had asked who the mom was, and had gotten yelled at for such a dumb question.

She averted her gaze from the two gods, not from faith, but fear. You aren’t meant to stare at the divine.

The three figures stood silently on the balcony while the prayers died.

Malus roared, “Cthargictha!” practically spitting the word. “The gods have agreed, they must pay for their crimes!” She raised her arms to the air. Fire shot from them, forming a massive circle above her, inside which the symbol of the Sostrian Empire burned - a throne, surrounded by nine flames.

“There must be war!”