A group of n were sitting in a room, the only illumination coming from the sunlight pouring in through a window. The majority of the n had pale skin, but there were a few natives with brown skin around them. The natives wore different styles of clothing, and so of them were glaring daggers at each other. One of the white n cleared his throat. Now, now. Ive gathered you all today not to fight amongst one another. We have a common enemy.
A mont later, one of the natives repeated what the man said but in the natives mother tongue. The white man continued. Those monsters in the capital are taking advantage of you; cant you realize it? Their rules seem fair: The prisoners of the mock wars are to be sacrificed. Especially valiant soldiers may join the capitals army. The man waited for the translator to finish speaking. The natives in the room nodded their heads. However, its a trick. They take your valiant warriors, incorporate them into the capital. They kill your strongest n. What does that leave your cities? The weak, the young, the elderly. And they want you to continue fighting these wars. anwhile, they grow stronger. As they take in your n, they lose less fights, sacrifice less warriors. Compared to the capital, how many n have your cities sacrificed?
One of the natives pointed at the speaker and said sothing. The translator cleared his throat. What do you get? Why are you helping us?
The capital is very rich in gold, the white man said and smiled. Theres a saying amongst my people. For gold, God, and glory. If we conquer the capital and remove its barbaric rituals of sacrificing people, wont we accomplish all three?
The translator snorted and spat on the ground before translating the mans words. Rage filled the eyes of the natives, and one of them shouted at the white man while pointing fingers. The white man raised his eyebrows and looked at the translator.
Dont disrespect our gods, foreigner, the translator said. Becoming a sacrifice is a great honor. We can help our gods maintain the prosperity of the world. We will help you, but thats only because you are the enemy of our enemy. You are not our friend.
***
Vur rubbed his chin. He was sitting on top of an altar inside of a temple. There was a block of stone attached to the back, and leather stuffed with soft materials had been placed over it. There was also leather underneath Vurs butt, and the whole structure looked like a very sturdy sofa. There were two won standing next to him, large leaves in their hands that they were waving up and down to blow a cool breeze onto Vur. In front of him, in the center of the temple, two n were dueling each other, blood leaking all over the ground.
When you told they were going to provide entertainnt, this isnt what I had in mind, Vur said to Zilphy, who was sitting on his shoulder.
Its because she cant actually understand what those people are saying. Mistles voice ca out of Vurs back, spooking the two won with the leaves. Shes bluffing and trying to make herself seem more useful than she actually is.
Nonsense! Zilphy said. Shut your trap, adulteress. Look, their performance is so real; its like theyre really trying to kill each other.
Mistle climbed out of Vurs back in the shape of a blue rock. She sat on the shoulder opposite of Zilphy, and the three watched the two warriors grunt as they swung at each other with wooden sticks that had stones embedded inside of them like axes. One of the warriors slipped on a puddle of blood and fell forward. The other warrior took that chance to swing his club down, striking his opponent to the ground while opening a large gash in his back. The standing warrior used his foot to flip the fallen warrior over before grabbing a knife that was hanging from his waist. With a few deft movents, the victor carved out the losers heart and dropped to both knees, extending the bloody organ towards Vur.
This looks like another sacrifice to , Mistle said. A smug expression appeared on her face. What performance were you talking about earlier, hmm?
Thats, err. Zilphy scratched her head. She nearly fell off as Vur sighed and stood up. He grabbed the heart, shoved it back into the fallen warriors body, and revived the man before healing both of the warriors wounds. Mistle conjured a ball of water in the air for Vur to rinse his hands off. He placed his hands on his hips and glared at the two n. No wonder why his grandma gave up on preventing people from offering sacrifices to her. People just didnt listen, not that they could understand him in the first place.
Vur shook his head and snorted before exiting the temple. Tafels plan was for everyone to stay put and make a ruckus so she could find them. But why wasnt it the other way around? Wouldnt it make more sense for him to find everyone since he could fly? The last ti he told Tafel that, what did she say? Im not good at making ruckuses, so you wont find that easily. Thats why you have to make the ruckus. Right, she said sothing like that. Vur scratched his head as he stared up at the sky. People noticed he had exited the temple, and they knelt on the ground, stopping everything they were doing. Vur furrowed his brow. It didnt feel right to make a ruckus amongst people who worshipped him. So, why didnt he just construct a giant statue of himself instead?
Hey, Diamant.
Are you going to ask about Mistle and Zilphy again?
No, I wasnt going to. I want you to make a giant statue of .
Right now?
Yeah.
Human or dragon?
Uh. Vur scratched his head. His brow furrowed as he fell into thought. A mont later, he opened his mouth. Hey, Diamant.
Yes?
I want you to make two giant statues of .
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