Genesis [malexmale]

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

We moved clear across the meadow in the shadows of night... nearly a month ago.

Since then, twelve more lives had been lost to Atlan's army. Two had defected to the enemy's side. Our fortress had tripled in security to the point where no one could leave and it had become more of a prison than a home. No one called it home. We simply referred to it as "base". It was a series of tunnels built into the side of a mountain, tunnels with thankfully no end that led out on the other side or anywhere else, but two main entrances. Our base was built into the side of the mountain with staircases that led up the sheer rocky sides, platforms for which lookouts could see far and wide.

Magic had depleted significantly in order to maintain a shield around the mountain.

It was exactly what Atlan wanted, I realized a month after we had moved in and reinforced it. Atlan wanted us terrified, wanted us closed off from everything, and wanted us to feel trapped. While his attacks were violent, his encouragements were not. Thrice now, he'd approached the shield to offer shelter to those who wish to be free of the war, who wish for peace, for freedom.

Or at least, his hopeless lies of peace and freedom.

And all three times, Xiphrus followed at his heels like a dutiful hunting dog. He was dressed in a tight black leather vest and matching greaves and vambraces that were plated with metal, with sharp points jutting out just over his knuckles. A pair of tall monstrously huge boots added two more inches to his height, and with icy eyes that glowed like two moons in his skull, he was a terrifying sight to those who watched him behind the shield with a tremble in their hands as they palmed their weapons.

"You can stop this," Atlan had told me in a croon upon his last visit, "All you must do is reveal yourself to me, everything. Show to me what you truly are, Joxeia, what you truly crave. You conceal a spirit of fire behind a facade of stone. Come to me, be your true self. Open yourself to me." His words had made my skin crawl, and even worse when Xiphrus growled low in his throat, a sound of approval that Atlan praised as if he were complimenting his pet.

And it was those encouragements that caused restlessness in the base. I heard the whispers, the murmurs. The rumors burned into my back through the eyes of suspicion.

It was my fault, they told themselves. I should surrender myself, and maybe Atlan would leave the rest of them in peace.

It was my fault. I was also corrupt. I was a wolf hiding among deer. It was only a matter of time before I tainted them as well.

And none of them were wrong. Maybe if I did hand myself over, Atlan would cease his killings. I absolutely was corrupt. There was a sick twisted part of me that wanted to fight, not to the death, but to fight until someone gained the power and someone took it, rough and hard. My body ached on occasion and it was difficult to find privacy in the base to ease it, so I'd volunteered doing rounds on the outer perimeter, finding a small alcove in the side of the mountain to ease what I could.

Not that it did a damned thing. Still, there was an ache inside me that no amount of touching was healing. I was unsure what could fill that aching void, but there was no time to stop and think of myself. Despite the growth in self-loathing, I had to focus on the task at hand.

Protect. Serve.

Protect. Serve.

I repeated the mantra in my head as I climbed the steps to the Northeast guard tower, hand resting on one of the swords in my holster, the feel of the handle a comfort as I came to the top, only to draw up short.

Starkin stood at the railing, his hands resting on the railing, his ponytail swaying in the breeze that caught up around the mountain and moaned like a distant wolf howl as it sailed through the air. Starkin pushed back from the railing to turn and look at me.