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The Citadel of the Lost Race
- The Citadel of the Lost Race -
The descending of the evening was more sudden, more ferocious than any wild beast of the wastes. It was a curtain of darkness falling upon an already stricken land! The drum-like pounding of thunder was as the beating of the drums of an angry god, and lightning struck the rocks of the desert like forks of a hot fire from some darkly Promethean forge. The sound of the thunder seemed to be growing closer to any who traveled across the region in which this was happening, as lizard-like winged beasts prowled a haunted sky, seeking what scant prey could be found in such a forsaken and terrible place. There was an odd scent in the air, and it was evident to Lord Krylor that something was not right. “Lord”, was what a great many people called him... yet, did he yet rule from a place of power? His only power now lay with the sword he kept sheathed in the scabbard that hung from his belt, and yet he never corrected any who called him what they did. His mount was tired, the great lizard was the size of a horse and yet it was not used to going so long without sustenance. This place was a veritable hell, and the lizard was tired from its' burden of carrying the man who rode upon the saddle strapped with care to its' back. The horizon, it was crimson with the onset of afternoon's fading. Lord Krylor was losing the light of day, what was left of it, and already he had been riding for almost a full day's time. He had lost the bandits who took him for an easy target, the typical wasteland raider scum who haunted all but the most inhospitable of places and sometimes they haunted those too. But not this place! Never this place, which was horrible beyond the ken of mortal imaginings. The storm was growing in the heavens, and it seemed to be attracted to a certain aspect of this place, an aspect that was eldritch and strange. “I'd better find a place to wait this out, lest I end of stricken by an errant bolt from above!” He cried aloud when a bolt of lightning struck far too close at one point, frightening his great mount which nearly threw him from its' back with fright.
“I wonder if my pursuers had a mind to think twice before following he hither.” he mused, for he had not seen any sign of them since crossing the threshold into this domain from the more civilized lands as lay beyond its' borders. There were little signs of civilization here and there, but old and dead were the civilizations of which the ruins and rubble that dotted this landscape had belonged to. No inns to rest at, no taverns to relax at, and no places that could serve as adequate shelter for the night should rain come. If rain could come to such a place as this! The air was hot and humid, and horribly still. It was a marvel that there was any breeze higher up for the flying monstrosities to soar thereby. And yet, soar the things did, and Lord Krylor began to fear that if a pack of them had a mind to, they could descend upon him in a mindless desire for human flesh. Against a few, he could hold his own and fight them off, but against a pack of them he could do nothing. There were rumors of an ancient citadel in the heart of this domain, and no one in their right minds went anywhere near it. But this man was not in his right mind, he was in point of fact weary, hungry, thirsty, and pushed beyond endurance by his pursuers. Any port in a storm is a valid one, they say... and a storm was literally at hand! “I know not if the place is inhabited or like a great deal else here just a remnant of another age... but either way, I'd better find it soon. Lest I perish!” and these thoughts of his turned dark, like whispers of warning. There was no turning back now, back to the blades of the bandits, and there was a veritable horde of them waiting for him to do so. If they did not give him up for dead by now! Many made protective motions with their hands the moment he thus entered this place. Some cried out and called him mad and foolish, and urged him to come back to die in a less terrible way that what awaited him otherwise. But he took them for fools and ignored their cry for reason, or reason as they saw it anyway. He had a feeling they would not follow him hither, and this feeling was correct... but now he was in danger of a worse death by far than any they could have doled out to him. There was no end to the sound of the thunder, nor to the cries of the winged horrors in the sky... and ere long night fell and only the moon, pale and livid, provided any light. It would be hard to tell where he was going now, well harder than by day in any case. But he had to keep riding, regardless.
After several hours riding aimlessly forward, a flash of lightning and the pale moonlight revealed up ahead a great hill, covered in sand and dirt, with a foundation of stone set upon it... and built upon that sturdy foundation was a mighty fortress, the citadel of which the legends about it had spoken. It was not a tall structure by any means compared to some of the palaces Lord Krylor had seen in his lifetime... but it had a peculiar dome made of some sort of metal that served as the roof for its' highest levels. The roof appeared divided by eight dark lines, as if it was meant to separate and perhaps retract and open by the means of some mechanism... but it was closed tightly, and kept its' secrets well. There were eight high towers that ran the circumference of the circular shaped citadel, which were likewise made of metal. All of them were like lances stabbing at the heavens. There were some windows, but all were up higher by far than could be reached without climbing tools, and if an entrance could not be found more properly on the ground level... it could be that there would be no possible way of entering this place after all. It was a forbidding thought, and not a pleasant one, to consider that all this effort to reach this place may have been wasted! With his mount having been run so frightfully far... it would perish long before there could be any way of reaching the nearest borders of this land. It was the citadel or death at this point... and so the desperate man scanned the foundation for any sight of a gate or door, and soon as he rode a bit around the hill he spotted what he was looking for, a simple set of metal double doors set into the side of the foundation. There was a strange illumination from some of the windows, an almost glowing sort of light that came not from candles or torches. Lord Krylor had not seen that form of illumination in a very long time, but he knew it was electric in nature. That meant that this place held some of the old technology within it, and that was still in use! The bandits would have fled at the sight of this, for they were superstitious and of a generation that had never seen the old technologies. But Lord Krylor had lived well beyond many generations of men, and was yet in his prime, for he was immortal or so the legends about him stated. And whether that was by curse or blessing of the gods, none could say. If he himself knew the why of it, he spoke of it to no one. “If there is power yet running in that place, that means there is a generator or other power source. Someone must be still living there and making use of it, then! I can only hope the doors will open, for they look like the sort that opens as you approach, in detection of motion. Unless those within have them locked and will only let someone in if they want to. But I cannot worry about that yet! I need to get close to the doors before I can worry about that.” So did go his thoughts, and it was not unusual for him to hold whole conversations with himself whilst out on his journeys. It was often the only way to deal with the loneliness of those travels, and keep madness at bay. Whilst from a distance the citadel did not look all that impressive, up closer its' true proportions... and they were grand enough to impress a person... could be appreciated in full. Not as grand as a palace after all, but regardless it was mighty indeed and still made a man feel like an ant when standing before it. It was remarkable how sturdy this place appeared, and how well it remained almost untouched by the surrounding hellish landscape. There were blast marks, likely from where lightning had struck it in the past, drawn to the metal as lightning often can be... but otherwise no damage to be seen, and even those blast marks seemed only to discolor the metal rather than to actually harm it in any way. This was very much a place from the old world, from the times before. And the doorway was as plain as many of the places from those times often were. Gray metal, sturdy and utilitarian. As Lord Krylor approached, after a brief climb up the hill to reach the door... after he had descended from his mount which dutifully had a mind to wait for him where he left it... an electronic voice called out to him, which surely those of the newer generations would have taken for a ghost or evil spirit and ran screaming from it. He knew better. And the voice said unto him: “Stand and be recognized. Entry will be permitted only if the recognition process passes adequately.” A beam of light shot out from a lens above the door and passed over him. It was painless, so clearly this was not a weapon. After this was complete, the voice said: “Scan finished... genetic structure recognized. You are one of us! You may enter freely and be of no fear.” All went well!
Lord Krylor knew the language, it was the old tongues from the before times. He knew the words and he knew the meaning of them. For he was himself of the old world once... from those ancient days now long passed beyond the memory of humanity. The genetic structure of the human race had changed long since, and only one of the old world could still be allowed to access this place, clearly. Yet, his body had been changed! But apparently not enough to keep it from being recognizable for what it still essentially was. He smiled, for this meant he could enter the citadel after all without difficulty! The doors made a swishing sound as they slid open, and Lord Krylor entered into the citadel's ancient halls as the doors so closed behind him. The interior was spartan and with very little ornamentation or decoration to it. This was a place built for a purpose, not for the sake of simply being built. And yet... there was nobody to be seen within! He passed through countless hallways and corridors, sometimes drawing his sword when a noise startled him... and yet, there was no sign of habitation anywhere. He called out in greetings, in all the languages he knew, and there was no reply to any of them. This was strange! Someone had to be in this place, maintaining it. Unless... machines were running it. But then, who would be maintaining the machines? None of this made any sense, and the more he thought about it, the more it bothered him to think about. A series of lights lined one of the corridors, soft lights that blinked on as he approached. He took this as a good sign, and followed the lights and thus the corridor, all the way to a great dining hall. It was much like the dining halls he was used to from the palaces he had visited as a guest. Better than the ones he had visited as a prisoner anyway! There was a veritable banquet laid out on the tables in the dining hall... and, several red robed individuals who wore silver reflective mirror-like masks over their hooded visages tended to things in the opulently appointed chamber. If the rest of the citadel seemed a bit utilitarian, this was a place of luxury, and it showed. Tapestries, paintings, and decorations of many sorts lined the walls, and grand candelabras hung from the high ceiling. Nothing depicted in any of the paintings or upon any of the tapestries was familiar to the stranger, and some appeared to depict other worlds' landscapes for there were two moons in the sky on some of them rather than one. “Would you mind if I had something eat and drink? I have been long on the road, well... not a road literally, but you get what I mean I hope.” he asked of one of the robed individuals. It spoke unto him with an electronic sounding voice, and said: “Very good sir! You may partake of the food we have prepared here. We set out quite the banquet each and every day, and wait for our masters to come partake of it. But they never do, and at the end of each day we have to get rid of the food. It seems so wasteful! It would be fine, if the food could be of use to someone at least. You are not one of our masters, but you are welcome! For if you were not welcome, you would never have been allowed to enter these halls to begin with. So sit down, make yourself comfortable, and have what you will.” The barbarian... for that was what the man appeared to be, who was named Lord Krylor... sat himself down on one of the chairs at the dining table closest to him and began to eat after first drinking some water and after that a bit of wine. He was very hungry, and ate quickly. One of the servants said to him: “Take your time, no need to rush! The food is not going anywhere.” and it seemed to him that the servant was attempting humor. But it did not land as intended, and the barbarian simply ignored the servant. Then he asked, as if that was his second thought to do: “Servant! Can you tell me the last time you saw your masters?” and the servant replied: “As you reckon time, it was approximately five hundred years ago. A very long time for them to be so silent for.” And that sent a chill down the man's spine, for it meant that very likely those “masters” were long dead. These servants were probably mechanical in nature, if their voices and manner were anything to go by. That meant he was the only fleshly person present, and never before had he been in the presence of so many mechanical people. They were a relic of another age, and people in this world today took them for demons. This place was supposed to be either abandoned or haunted by its' bleak reputation... in a way, it was haunted after all! But by beings that by all accounts lacked living souls. This was hardly optimal, but at least it seemed safer than wandering the desert. He would be sure to feed his mount, after he ate.
That was when he heard the footsteps, and saw walking towards him from a side chamber a very tall man, about seven feet tall... well past his own six feet of height... and, the tall man was as muscular as he was of great height. The man was pale and shaven so as that he had no hair upon his body anywhere. That he had access to such grooming meant the man was clearly civilized! Lord Krylor availed himself of grooming, as often as he could, but being a wanderer meant he had to keep grooming utensils with him in his mount's saddlebags, and that he had to make use of them sometimes whilst traveling which presented many difficulties. He would never do it whilst riding, of course, but instead did his shaving in the night when he stopped someplace to sleep after laying out his bedroll and setting up a campfire. He sometimes stayed at inns, or at the homes of people whom he knew and trusted... and it was easiest, to do there. He kept a mirror with him, and enough water so he never shaved dry. But during his flight to the citadel, he had few chances to spare the time to do so... and he knew there was some stubble on his face to be seen. This bothered him a little, he didn't like beards and preferred a clean shaven face! He had a mind to tend to that after feeding his mount, and felt a bit conscious of himself as the newcomer greeted him and said: “Welcome to the citadel, stranger! I too am a newcomer to this place, only I have been here for a week. My name is Tyrax, and I am a merchant from distant Celphar.” The man had the most exquisite of manners, and a noble bearing that belied his story about being a merchant. If he was a seller of wares, he was no common one. The barbarian smiled courteously and motioned for the man to have a seat across from him. The man named Tyrax shook his head, remained standing, and stated: “No thank you, I had a hearty breakfast already today. The food here, as you have probably noticed, is quite excellent! This place makes for not a bad home, if you do not mind the lack of any women. I myself... I do not mind that so much since I am a eunuch.” Lord Krylor should have assumed that, since the man had a round, feminine looking face and was wearing the kind of rich silken robes most eunuchs that he knew seemed to favor. Not he knew all that many, but the ones he knew of were much like this man. He said to Tyrax in an inquisitive and curious tone of voice: “I understand... but I am curious what brought you to this place! Me, I was fleeing from some men who sought to rob me and on finding I had nothing of value to steal... they sought my life instead. So... I came hither by accident rather than by design. But you... you do not have the look of a harried man!” Tyrax then decided to sit after all, and reclined in the chair in an effeminate manner that showed he had a taste for comfort and luxury. He rubbed his temples and then exhaled as he said to the barbarian before him: “That is kind of you to say... but there are many ways a man may be harried, if man I still even am. I question that anymore, to be honest with you! But I too was fleeing something when I came to the door of this place, and it may not have been bandits but it was something just as frightful. I was not expecting the beam of light that shot out from the door, nor at all was I expecting the strange voice that I was actually oddly enough able to understand. I was shocked just as much when the door opened and though in my time here since I was able to learn much about all of that and the meaning of it... along with the reason why I was allowed to enter herein... still I find this place to be very strange to my understanding. The curious automatons who act as servants for instance! There are no people to maintain them, so clearly they had to have learned how to maintain themselves. And yet... they can be single minded at times, laying out elaborate feats for people who could only be long dead. Also, something is in error here... because I have no memory of ever being here before, but the machines of this place insist that they recognize me as being of a race that is welcome here. That is why I was allowed in to begin with... and yet, I came to this place a stranger to it. As, I would assume, is the case with you?” The barbarian replied only by saying: “Yes and no in my case... I am a stranger to this place, just like you, but I am of the same race... clearly... as the people who once lived here. So, my story makes sense! Yours... is missing some facts, and that makes me even more curious. Such as... if you are not like me and of that ancient race, and how could you be unless you were either from that past era or a product of a very undiluted ancient bloodline, then truly the security systems must be in error!”
Then Tyrax blushed a bit, and said in an honest enough sounding tone of voice: “Five days ago, a very large party of raiders tried to enter this citadel. They pounded on the doors for some time, before out of the door shot a red beam of light that struck dead on the spot reach man that it touched, piercing clean through each one like a lance. Not one raider was left alive, and the servants came out and fetched their bodies, which they carried to a great furnace and burned until they were but ashes. I witnessed their fate by way of a camera in a place the servants call the security room. I was afraid it was the army of the evil king I used to serve come to drag me back to my former master. But even if it had been, their fate surely would have been the same! So believe me... the security systems are working and they are not in error.” To which the barbarian replied: “Then clearly there is something about you... which even you are not of yet fully aware. For you do not strike me as a liar! So I can only take you at your word.” The eunuch did then state: “Well I am glad I meet your approval, sir! Rather than the point of your blade.” Then, Lord Krylor said slyly: “So, you were fleeing something after all, just like me... which means you lied about your initial story of being a merchant.” Tyrax sighed and then said in a slightly irritated tone: “Sir, I am no liar! It was in the capacity of a master of coin... that is to say, a glorified merchant... that my master had employed me for a good many years before I tired of his cruelty and decided to flee his domain. He of course came after me, but turned back when my mount reached this desolation. His men cried out to me saying I was as good as dead if I entered therein, but I knew I would likely be tortured if they took me back. I have no tolerance for the pain of torture, and so I did the only thing I could... I sought out the citadel of legend to see if I could find some help here. I was... not expecting anything this nice.” And at that, the barbarian was satisfied. But he jested, saying: “An honest merchant! You're the first one I have ever met in my life.. and I have lived a long time indeed, Tyrax. My name is Lord Krylor. Perhaps you have heard of me?” But the eunuch merely shrugged his mighty shoulders and said: “I have not! But it does appear you have the look of a man who has lived long and seen much, whatever your actual age. I, in comparison, have a preference for comfort. And though I too have lived much and perhaps long... in no way could I live the way you appear to be used to living.” But the burns on the very top right of the pale eunuch's shaved head indicated that he had been acquainted with pain in the past. As did the scars on his arms and wrists... an indication of past unsuccessful suicide attempts. “We all have our pains we keep to ourselves, however. I simply do not wish to discuss mine!” Tyrax said, elaborating a bit further on seeing the curious look on the barbarian's face and waiting a bit as Lord Krylor said nothing. Then, at last, the barbarian said in a blunt manner: “I have lived since the old world, and I was ancient when it was new! I was... made this way, not burn this way. I will say no more of it than that.” Tyrax, on hearing this uttered aloud, said: “And I was ancient when that world's most ancient of histories was in its' dawn. So here we are, then! Two immortals... facing each other across a table that is a relic of a world we both are well acquainted it. It appears I was less than honest with you after all, my lord! I needed to study far less about this place and learn far less about its' secrets, than I had previously stated. Likely, I knew as much as you know about it... but everything else I have told you is the truth.” Lord Krylor chuckled a bit, and then said in a sincere... not mocking... manner: “So, then... were you a eunuch before you were made immortal, or is that a more recent development?” Tyrax then explained: “I was like this before. It is not a fresh development. I have had centuries beyond counting to learn to accept it. But only recently have I begun to ponder what my condition truly makes me... and whether I am a man or something else as a result.” Then, the barbarian stood up and said dutifully: “I have to go and feed my animal, and then see if I can bring it inside so raiders do not get it in their heads to hunt it for food. Them, or those devil beasts circling in the skies above! We will speak more later, I think.” Then, the barbarian stuffed many armfuls of food into a cloth sack that he found on the floor nearby, and headed back towards the main doors, trying to remember the way we came to get to the dining chamber. This was a strange day, and it was doubtless about to get even stranger! What were the odds of two immortals meeting like us? Odd.
The animal had long fled, so there was no going back. “Damn it! That stupid beast... now I am stuck in this forsaken citadel with no way to go back.” He screamed and hollered, and upon realizing how bad this all truly was he went back inside and sought out the eunuch. He told him the situation, and the pale man said to him in reply: “Mine bolted after throwing me a day before I reached the citadel. I arrived in these halls half dead from thirst and covered in sun burns so severe the servants had to tend to them. No that is not how I got the burns on my head that I saw you eyeing before! But this is for the best really. It is not likely that the world outside will ever fully accept people like us. Better to stay here and enjoy the comforts and protection the citadel can afford us.” The eunuch's eyes were big and pleading as he said all of that, and Lord Krylor was less than pleased with the idea. He shouted, loud enough to cause it so Tyrax had to cover his ears: “Listen to yourself! You may have given up on this world, but I have not... the people who lived here, they must have had some machines hidden away that served as conveyances. Places like this, in the time before... they always had such things. And fuel to make them work! I have to find them is all, get one of them up and running, and get as far from this accursed place as possible. I like the food, I really do... but I am not living here with you for the rest of my life.” Tyrax said to him in an almost hurt way, in reply to what he heard of what the barbarian screamed: “Fine! Go then... if only so that you will not make me deaf. Assume I have given up on my life! But I have not. I simply know a good thing when I see it, and since coming here I can live like royalty instead of being at the mercy of the whims of madmen who call themselves kings.” The barbarian said to that: “If you flee with me, I will protect you until I can get you someplace safe, someplace where you will be treated right by people and I know many monarchs... queens as well as kings... and many who are good and who would be all too happy to take you in. If you trust me!” Tyrax thought long and hard about that, rubbing his temples again as if his head pained him. Then he said: “Very well... I will trust you. This place... something is a bit odd here, I will admit that much. And... there has to be a reason fate brought us both here... as if we are meant to journey together for a time. Let us do so, and please... no more screaming! I am of a very delicate mentality no matter how strong I look. Too much yelling, and I am likely to weep like a baby.” Lord Krylor sighed, and said aloud though he meant to keep it to himself: “Great! On top of everything else, you are basically a child as well. I have all the luck sometimes!” And the eunuch began to shake a bit nervously, and looked as if he was about to cry. “Calm yourself!” said the barbarian, as calmly as he could muster the words, adding: “Everything is going to be alright. Come! Let us start searching what parts of the citadel we have not already been to. Those vehicles I am talking about must be someplace.”
“Can you fight if you must?” asked the barbarian as he handed the giant of a eunuch a dagger. The tall man took a scimitar from a plaque it was hanging on in one of the hallways as the pair walked along. It took a bit to test its' weight and balance, but it would do. The eunuch then explained: “I can fight well, I just... prefer not to unless there is no other choice. What do you think we will find in terms of trouble as we search this place?” Lord Krylor then explained: “Whatever killed the people who used to live here. I suspect they never left this citadel's halls, and that whatever was the death of them... the servants know nothing at all about it. Call me paranoid, but I like to be cautious! Better that... than dead.” The eunuch nodded his head, agreeing it made sense, and stated: “There is a stairway that leads down into a part of this place where the servants normally do not allow anyone to enter. Something has to be down there! If only we time it just right, then we could sneak on down when the servants are just busy elsewhere.” The pale giant was still quite nervous, and he fidgeted a bit with one of the two pearl earrings he wore, his slender looking hand... which was at odds with his muscular body... tugged on his ear slightly as he did so. “Just like a woman!” exclaimed the barbarian, to which Tyrax said: “You say that as if it was a bad way to be.” To which the barbarian exclaimed: “Very well then, my lady! Be as you wish, but be ready to fight if we are confronted by... whatever. I'll grant you... some women can fight exceptionally well.”
The stairway, sat in an alcove that periodically the servants would come by to check up on. They sent patrols to do this, armed with long lances. The guards... for guards those servants clearly were... would do this routinely, once every hour on the hour. Their internal clocks allowed them to see to this with the utmost precision. They would linger for precisely fifteen to twenty minutes, and then... satisfied nothing was going amiss... they would depart and return again later. One patrol would do this by day, another by night. Tyrax showed his companion the location, and the two of them hid in a nearby storage closet and waited for the patrol to leave. “We will have only a short time, after that patrol is gone, to sneak down the stairs without alerting them either upon their departure or on their return. We will have to move fast and silently!” the eunuch advised, and the barbarian agreed by nodding his head silently. “This fellow is far too fond of words!” He thought, preferring to talk less and do more. The eunuch's thoughts were a bit like a frightened but excited child's. He could not wait to find out what was down those stairs! But he did not wish to get in any kind of trouble for his curiosity. The pair rushed out of the closet as soon as the patrol was down the hall and around the corner and therefore well out of site. The servants had a distinctly metallic sound to their feet, and this patrol marched with military precision. That made them very loud indeed! Compared to the quiet steps of the two immortals who made their way to the alcove and down the stairs before the patrol had a mind to return. That was all it took, to enter the lower areas.
The stairs were metallic, and the deep winding shaft the spiral stairs descended was cut deep into the earth, or so it seemed. Whilst the barbarian and the eunuch made their way downward, many sounds of various sorts could be heard. The humming of large machines, the rushing of water, and the buzzing of electricity. Dim lights illuminated the descent, lights set into the walls of the stairwell, and the air was a lot hotter and more humid below than it was in the air conditioned halls of the citadel above. Eventually the stairwell ended and opened up into a massive cellar area that was high vaulted and evidently a great deal older than the above structure. This was something that was here before the citadel was ever built... and it looked almost like an ancient cathedral. Only there was no ornamentation or decoration, only the most spartan and bare rough outline of something grand. A place of worship, perhaps, but one made by a people more primitive who were trying to build something reminiscent of the grandeur of ages past. Crates and barrels, and boxes of various sorts lined the walls in alcoves lining both sides of the hall that ran before the pair who looked about them in wonder. The massive hall that was larger by far than any hall that either of them had ever been in... and in places the geometry was strange, as if space and time were affected somehow and things were slightly askew because of that. Behind glass windows set in the walls in various places, one could see quite elaborate underground gardens and places where food could be grown and processed. Artificial sunlight close enough to the real thing made this possible, and there were sprinkler systems to enough that what was grown was healthy from being well watered. Robotic automatons... that looked for all the world like metallic skeletons... tended these gardens endlessly. As the barbarian and the eunuch passed by this area and beyond into a deeper cavern system past a series of storage chambers that could have housed small villages... they began to notice a series of chambers that held within them metal containers that housed preserved human organs and body parts. Kept fresh by preserving fluids pumped into them from machines designed for that very purpose. “Strange, given that there are no people here any longer.” mused Lord Krylor aloud, to which Tyrax replied: “It seems that in this citadel, the left hand does not know what the right hand is doing.” For the servants above, it appeared, know nothing of what was actually going on down below. It meant that their masters could have been killed right under their very noses, and they never would have known. Assuming that it was to this place that their masters descended long ago. So far, other than these organs there was no sign of human life in this place at all. “What could they have used these... parts... for?” asked the eunuch. The barbarian was as bluntly honest as ever, saying: “Cloning, most likely. Spare parts. Very smart people!”
But not smart enough, it seemed! Else they would not have met their ends. Past this area, the tunnels grew dimmer and darker, and descended deeper and deeper into the ground. They passed by various odd laboratories and offices, and places that had not seen human use in far too long to count comfortably. It was peculiar, for they were kept pristine and with everything in order... immaculately cleaned and ideal in how they were maintained by the automatons who kept things this way. Only, with no people left to make use of any of it! Next, they came upon ancient crypts and burial places containing stone coffins of various sizes and elaborate looking sarcophagi fit for royalty. All set into alcoves dug unto the walls of the caverns wherein these resting places were dug in and hollowed out. There was a goodly number of these, but not enough to account for a whole people vanishing. And nothing indicating violence or any other sort of misfortune. There were inscriptions upon the various sarcophagi, but this time it was not in any language that either of the two strangers understood. Beyond these burial chambers were pits that functioned as mass graves, indicative of more hasty burials the deeper things went in this place. Now, this could account for things more clearly! Unless these were generations of burials. Piles of bones and skulls lined the chambers containing the mass graves, and these were placed to form pyramids in very precise designs. And still the tunnels ran deeper under the ground. The barbarian swore, and said in a course tone of voice: “By every god I can name and some I refuse to name! Does this go all the way to Hell itself?” The eunuch did not bother to answer, being scared enough that this could well be true. In no way was this place a normal or natural part of the world. Something was strange here, and alien. But in no way that either of the two could comprehend. “I have seen a lot in my lifetime, but I have never in all my years seen a place like this.” Said Tyrax, and the barbarian agreed, answering: “The same here!” And still they went onward, and downward, passing under enormous archways and vaults that were all empty but for enormous statues of alien gods and goddesses, with proportions not common to any sort of human shape. And monstrous visages that were ferocious and terrible to look upon! “A temple by the look of it, to whatever gods the people of this place once worshiped.” And Tyrax stated: “Or the devils they feared and wished to keep at bay... sometimes such as they can be considered gods also.” It was a bit evident that the eunuch was much more intelligent than he appeared to be, for the barbarian had just the slightest inclination to agree that these were devils rather than proper gods. And that was when they heard the sounds of shuffling coming from the shadows at the corner of the massive worship chamber. The broken remnants of benches and pews lined the chamber from end to end, and it appeared as if they were destroyed in a rage given the splintered look of the ancient and moldering wood. The smell of the wood's decay lingered in the air, along with fouler smells by far. “It reeks of death here!” exclaimed the eunuch as he covered his nose and mouth with his hands. “No! Ready your weapon... I have a feeling, we are unwanted guests here.” cautioned the barbarian. The eunuch took his scimitar in hand, in both hands, and suddenly several inhuman looking things sprang from the shadows to attack the two people.
They had been human once, but their skin was pure white like bone, their eyes large and their skin all covered with tumors and lesions. Some were covered in burns... some had their skin seeming to be in a state of being melted and hanging from the bloody meat beneath in places. They made pitiful noises and guttural sounds, unable to speak normal words any longer. They clawed with long, sharp fingernails but some held crude and primitive weapons that they wielded poorly. It was their numbers that were most concerning, for there were many of these creatures. But the two immortals had both been trained in the arts of combat by the greatest trainers on the planet. They had both been in wars and battles during the course of their long lives, and they had bodies capable of rapidly healing injuries and even regrowing of limbs if it came to it though that could take months. Better not to lose a limb than to be laid up for that long! And so they fought like lions against these beasts of the dark, and the horror of their adversaries... was the worst of it. “Radiation! That is what made them like this.” cried the barbarian, his voice loud.
The cancerous creatures that had once been human beings were naked save for the tatters of what of old had been their clothing, and these somewhat mutated things had become accustomed to the dark a great deal more than to the light. They had the advantage of knowing their environment, but that still in no way granted them the victory. The two immortals slashed and stabbed and cut the pitiful things into pieces, spraying their foul blood unto the floor in great puddles. After a time, the attack ceased and the things that remained ran off back into whatever tunnels they had emerged from previously. Many were cut into the walls of this chamber, though the largest was at the very back of the massive room. That, alone, was not crudely cut and the barbarian indicated that the pair of immortals should flee through it. “Quickly! Before more of them come out to play.” Lord Krylor said, and he and the eunuch ran through the opening as fast as their legs could carry them. Tyrax exclaimed: “So... they must be from the times of the great atomic holocaust that changed the world. I never wanted to see such horrible things, myself. But as is my fate, it seems I am subjected so such sights regardless! Disgusting things.” The back door, or whatever the opening was meant to be, took the pair into a vast underground area that appeared to be natural and almost untouched by the hand of humankind. Within it was a humongous metal structure as ancient as it was unnatural to the sight of these two strangers. It had wings like a bird, but the shape of it was circular like a saucer... and it had a high dome atop it with windows set into it. The structure sat on metal legs that supported its' bulk, and once it had been a flying craft from another world. But now, it remained secreted away deep beneath the citadel and a good distance away from it. The opening in the ceiling through which it had once descended was still there, and it was deep enough below the very surface of the earth that anyone looking down from above would see only darkness in its' depths... even by daylight. And from below, at night nothing at all would be seen looking above and upwards. By day, only the fainting hint of light from above! It was still night, evidently. “I have seen flying craft before... but never of this design.” remarked the barbarian to which his companion replied: “I have seen similar types of craft to this, but never this exact make or model. This might well be from another world than our own!” and the pair wondered if the people of the citadel might not have been originally from some other planet entirely. However, once the atomic holocaust struck the world and the world was broken and changed... any semblance of intelligence these people ever possessed was lost when their minds too broke and their bodies sickened and became afflicted. Whatever knowledge they had, if they had never preserved it then it was surely lost to the present age. “It appears that this craft is our only way out of this place and away to safety.” stated the barbarian, pointing to it for emphasis. “Unless it is out of the fuel it needs to run, if it requires any. It would be wholly useless to us if the craft cannot be started!” So said the eunuch, perhaps just to be contrary. “Are you always this cheerful about things? Asked Lord Krylor, and his companion shrugged his shoulders and said flatly: “I am a realist! It is good to simply be prepared for any possibility... even a negative one. And to consider backup plans when one's plans fail.” To which the barbarian said: “Well, I hope you have one if this bird doesn't fly! Because I have a bad feeling this is as far and as deep as these tunnels go.” But as they passed close to the craft, they saw a deep chasm in the ground that ran a good ways, and could hear the sounds of drums coming from the depths of it. And they saw dim torchlight below and what looked like bonfires amid a subterranean city that was primitive looking indeed, inhabited by more of those horrid creatures. Apparently, in this awful place things did indeed go deeper and deeper. “Come on! Let us get aboard the craft and see if we can escape this place... before the things below decide to come up to say hello to us.” Stated Lord Krylor. Luckily, the bottom hatch of the craft was open and the landing ramp extended... allowing the pair to sneak aboard the exceedingly large but utterly grounded vehicle. Once aboard, they made their way by chance to the engine room and had a look at the vessel's power core. The barbarian had no idea what to make of it, but Tyrax recognized the technology and managed to get it in order with the press of a few buttons and the pulling of one of two present levers. He did not know how he knew how to start that up.
“It was as if I had the knowledge within me, from a time in my life I have forgotten about.” he said as the barbarian gazed in awe. “Come on now... the bridge should be up four flights of stairs at the end of that hallway.” said the eunuch, and the barbarian asked: “Do you know how to fly this thing too, then?” to which the seven foot tall giant said: “I actually think I do, my lord! We may be in luck, after all.” And the two immortals reached the bridge... a circular chamber in the topmost section of the craft, within the dome that could be seen outside. It was filled with instrument panels that ran the circumference of the chamber, and there were windows and a large viewing screen. Empty metal chairs were at every panel, with black leather on the seats of them. These were for the bridge crew to sit and work the machines as powered the craft. It normally took a crew of five to seven to get such a craft up and flying, but in this case all it took was two men, one of which knew the technology of this vessel intimately. For it was, of old, his very ancestors that had piloted it. And their spirits were helping him even now to do what had to be done! Quick as a panther, the eunuch was at the controls of each panel and with the power on, the panels had their lights blinking and flashing... and soon Tyrax had everything in readiness for the craft's departure. He sat in the captain's chair and turned the viewing screen on, which displayed a view of the cavern before them. He pressed some buttons and soon a map was displayed in the upper right corner of the viewing screen, displaying the most optimal flight path through the opening above... to avoid hitting the sides of the opening as the vessel ascended. “Be seated wherever it pleases you, my lord! I am going to fly us out of here. The power core is good for a thousand years, and luckily for us it has two hundred years to go before it needs to be recharged.” stated the eunuch happily. The barbarian sat down at what had once been the weapons station, though he did not know that about it. Tyrax did, and he smiled. All of this was in rightness, all of this felt as it should. He flew the craft out through the opening, and oddly enough its' engine was rather quiet though it did make an audible whirring sound a bit like the blades of a helicopter. The vessel emerged from the ground and glided across the wasteland towards no direction in particular. “Go that way!” shouted Lord Krylor excitedly, recognizing well the view of the landscape before them on the screen. “The lands of Queen Yastlir lie out that way, and she is one of those decent rulers I was telling you about.” The eunuch then smiled and said: “Very well then, I will drop you off at her very doorstep... but I myself feel a sort of pull to fly southward. I think some of the descendants of my people are living there, ones who did not suffer so horribly in the atomic holocaust but who escaped and founded of old their own civilized kingdoms. I do not know how I know this, but I do and I must be going to answer their call. It is in my mind, in my heart, in my very blood! This is my destiny.” And as the craft soared to the kingdom of Queen Yastlir... the largest storm in recorded history ravaged the area of the wastelands in which the citadel lay. Rain poured down upon the soil, and lightning struck down from black storm clouds that were blacker than the night itself. Meanwhile, in the far off lands that did belong to the noble queen... the skies were calm and clear and all was ideal. When Lord Krylor arrived at her palace, dropped off by the strange flying metal bird (for that it what it looked like to the people of the queen's land)... the queen decided to name Lord Krylor a god and make him her consort. He decided to accept, and when she claimed the craft was a god from her people's myths and legends he never once had a mind to correct her. The barbarian knew a good thing when he saw it, and decided it was time for a life of comfort for once. Meanwhile, his friend the eunuch named Tyrax flew the craft southward and was drawn to the location of one of his people's ancestral kingdoms. They waited for him there, and at last he would be someplace where he could feel at home and welcome. Where he would be free to live without fear or torture or the displeasure of despotic monarchs. His people welcomed him, and did so with open arms... and for the next two hundred years the flying craft would sit untouched, until at last its' power was depleted. It would never fly again, but its' final flight had been to take Tyrax home, to a home he had always longed for but which he never knew was waiting for him. He was happy that he so listened to Lord Krylor and left the citadel after all. This was his destiny, and finally he could fulfill it.
The descending of the evening was more sudden, more ferocious than any wild beast of the wastes. It was a curtain of darkness falling upon an already stricken land! The drum-like pounding of thunder was as the beating of the drums of an angry god, and lightning struck the rocks of the desert like forks of a hot fire from some darkly Promethean forge. The sound of the thunder seemed to be growing closer to any who traveled across the region in which this was happening, as lizard-like winged beasts prowled a haunted sky, seeking what scant prey could be found in such a forsaken and terrible place. There was an odd scent in the air, and it was evident to Lord Krylor that something was not right. “Lord”, was what a great many people called him... yet, did he yet rule from a place of power? His only power now lay with the sword he kept sheathed in the scabbard that hung from his belt, and yet he never corrected any who called him what they did. His mount was tired, the great lizard was the size of a horse and yet it was not used to going so long without sustenance. This place was a veritable hell, and the lizard was tired from its' burden of carrying the man who rode upon the saddle strapped with care to its' back. The horizon, it was crimson with the onset of afternoon's fading. Lord Krylor was losing the light of day, what was left of it, and already he had been riding for almost a full day's time. He had lost the bandits who took him for an easy target, the typical wasteland raider scum who haunted all but the most inhospitable of places and sometimes they haunted those too. But not this place! Never this place, which was horrible beyond the ken of mortal imaginings. The storm was growing in the heavens, and it seemed to be attracted to a certain aspect of this place, an aspect that was eldritch and strange. “I'd better find a place to wait this out, lest I end of stricken by an errant bolt from above!” He cried aloud when a bolt of lightning struck far too close at one point, frightening his great mount which nearly threw him from its' back with fright.
“I wonder if my pursuers had a mind to think twice before following he hither.” he mused, for he had not seen any sign of them since crossing the threshold into this domain from the more civilized lands as lay beyond its' borders. There were little signs of civilization here and there, but old and dead were the civilizations of which the ruins and rubble that dotted this landscape had belonged to. No inns to rest at, no taverns to relax at, and no places that could serve as adequate shelter for the night should rain come. If rain could come to such a place as this! The air was hot and humid, and horribly still. It was a marvel that there was any breeze higher up for the flying monstrosities to soar thereby. And yet, soar the things did, and Lord Krylor began to fear that if a pack of them had a mind to, they could descend upon him in a mindless desire for human flesh. Against a few, he could hold his own and fight them off, but against a pack of them he could do nothing. There were rumors of an ancient citadel in the heart of this domain, and no one in their right minds went anywhere near it. But this man was not in his right mind, he was in point of fact weary, hungry, thirsty, and pushed beyond endurance by his pursuers. Any port in a storm is a valid one, they say... and a storm was literally at hand! “I know not if the place is inhabited or like a great deal else here just a remnant of another age... but either way, I'd better find it soon. Lest I perish!” and these thoughts of his turned dark, like whispers of warning. There was no turning back now, back to the blades of the bandits, and there was a veritable horde of them waiting for him to do so. If they did not give him up for dead by now! Many made protective motions with their hands the moment he thus entered this place. Some cried out and called him mad and foolish, and urged him to come back to die in a less terrible way that what awaited him otherwise. But he took them for fools and ignored their cry for reason, or reason as they saw it anyway. He had a feeling they would not follow him hither, and this feeling was correct... but now he was in danger of a worse death by far than any they could have doled out to him. There was no end to the sound of the thunder, nor to the cries of the winged horrors in the sky... and ere long night fell and only the moon, pale and livid, provided any light. It would be hard to tell where he was going now, well harder than by day in any case. But he had to keep riding, regardless.
After several hours riding aimlessly forward, a flash of lightning and the pale moonlight revealed up ahead a great hill, covered in sand and dirt, with a foundation of stone set upon it... and built upon that sturdy foundation was a mighty fortress, the citadel of which the legends about it had spoken. It was not a tall structure by any means compared to some of the palaces Lord Krylor had seen in his lifetime... but it had a peculiar dome made of some sort of metal that served as the roof for its' highest levels. The roof appeared divided by eight dark lines, as if it was meant to separate and perhaps retract and open by the means of some mechanism... but it was closed tightly, and kept its' secrets well. There were eight high towers that ran the circumference of the circular shaped citadel, which were likewise made of metal. All of them were like lances stabbing at the heavens. There were some windows, but all were up higher by far than could be reached without climbing tools, and if an entrance could not be found more properly on the ground level... it could be that there would be no possible way of entering this place after all. It was a forbidding thought, and not a pleasant one, to consider that all this effort to reach this place may have been wasted! With his mount having been run so frightfully far... it would perish long before there could be any way of reaching the nearest borders of this land. It was the citadel or death at this point... and so the desperate man scanned the foundation for any sight of a gate or door, and soon as he rode a bit around the hill he spotted what he was looking for, a simple set of metal double doors set into the side of the foundation. There was a strange illumination from some of the windows, an almost glowing sort of light that came not from candles or torches. Lord Krylor had not seen that form of illumination in a very long time, but he knew it was electric in nature. That meant that this place held some of the old technology within it, and that was still in use! The bandits would have fled at the sight of this, for they were superstitious and of a generation that had never seen the old technologies. But Lord Krylor had lived well beyond many generations of men, and was yet in his prime, for he was immortal or so the legends about him stated. And whether that was by curse or blessing of the gods, none could say. If he himself knew the why of it, he spoke of it to no one. “If there is power yet running in that place, that means there is a generator or other power source. Someone must be still living there and making use of it, then! I can only hope the doors will open, for they look like the sort that opens as you approach, in detection of motion. Unless those within have them locked and will only let someone in if they want to. But I cannot worry about that yet! I need to get close to the doors before I can worry about that.” So did go his thoughts, and it was not unusual for him to hold whole conversations with himself whilst out on his journeys. It was often the only way to deal with the loneliness of those travels, and keep madness at bay. Whilst from a distance the citadel did not look all that impressive, up closer its' true proportions... and they were grand enough to impress a person... could be appreciated in full. Not as grand as a palace after all, but regardless it was mighty indeed and still made a man feel like an ant when standing before it. It was remarkable how sturdy this place appeared, and how well it remained almost untouched by the surrounding hellish landscape. There were blast marks, likely from where lightning had struck it in the past, drawn to the metal as lightning often can be... but otherwise no damage to be seen, and even those blast marks seemed only to discolor the metal rather than to actually harm it in any way. This was very much a place from the old world, from the times before. And the doorway was as plain as many of the places from those times often were. Gray metal, sturdy and utilitarian. As Lord Krylor approached, after a brief climb up the hill to reach the door... after he had descended from his mount which dutifully had a mind to wait for him where he left it... an electronic voice called out to him, which surely those of the newer generations would have taken for a ghost or evil spirit and ran screaming from it. He knew better. And the voice said unto him: “Stand and be recognized. Entry will be permitted only if the recognition process passes adequately.” A beam of light shot out from a lens above the door and passed over him. It was painless, so clearly this was not a weapon. After this was complete, the voice said: “Scan finished... genetic structure recognized. You are one of us! You may enter freely and be of no fear.” All went well!
Lord Krylor knew the language, it was the old tongues from the before times. He knew the words and he knew the meaning of them. For he was himself of the old world once... from those ancient days now long passed beyond the memory of humanity. The genetic structure of the human race had changed long since, and only one of the old world could still be allowed to access this place, clearly. Yet, his body had been changed! But apparently not enough to keep it from being recognizable for what it still essentially was. He smiled, for this meant he could enter the citadel after all without difficulty! The doors made a swishing sound as they slid open, and Lord Krylor entered into the citadel's ancient halls as the doors so closed behind him. The interior was spartan and with very little ornamentation or decoration to it. This was a place built for a purpose, not for the sake of simply being built. And yet... there was nobody to be seen within! He passed through countless hallways and corridors, sometimes drawing his sword when a noise startled him... and yet, there was no sign of habitation anywhere. He called out in greetings, in all the languages he knew, and there was no reply to any of them. This was strange! Someone had to be in this place, maintaining it. Unless... machines were running it. But then, who would be maintaining the machines? None of this made any sense, and the more he thought about it, the more it bothered him to think about. A series of lights lined one of the corridors, soft lights that blinked on as he approached. He took this as a good sign, and followed the lights and thus the corridor, all the way to a great dining hall. It was much like the dining halls he was used to from the palaces he had visited as a guest. Better than the ones he had visited as a prisoner anyway! There was a veritable banquet laid out on the tables in the dining hall... and, several red robed individuals who wore silver reflective mirror-like masks over their hooded visages tended to things in the opulently appointed chamber. If the rest of the citadel seemed a bit utilitarian, this was a place of luxury, and it showed. Tapestries, paintings, and decorations of many sorts lined the walls, and grand candelabras hung from the high ceiling. Nothing depicted in any of the paintings or upon any of the tapestries was familiar to the stranger, and some appeared to depict other worlds' landscapes for there were two moons in the sky on some of them rather than one. “Would you mind if I had something eat and drink? I have been long on the road, well... not a road literally, but you get what I mean I hope.” he asked of one of the robed individuals. It spoke unto him with an electronic sounding voice, and said: “Very good sir! You may partake of the food we have prepared here. We set out quite the banquet each and every day, and wait for our masters to come partake of it. But they never do, and at the end of each day we have to get rid of the food. It seems so wasteful! It would be fine, if the food could be of use to someone at least. You are not one of our masters, but you are welcome! For if you were not welcome, you would never have been allowed to enter these halls to begin with. So sit down, make yourself comfortable, and have what you will.” The barbarian... for that was what the man appeared to be, who was named Lord Krylor... sat himself down on one of the chairs at the dining table closest to him and began to eat after first drinking some water and after that a bit of wine. He was very hungry, and ate quickly. One of the servants said to him: “Take your time, no need to rush! The food is not going anywhere.” and it seemed to him that the servant was attempting humor. But it did not land as intended, and the barbarian simply ignored the servant. Then he asked, as if that was his second thought to do: “Servant! Can you tell me the last time you saw your masters?” and the servant replied: “As you reckon time, it was approximately five hundred years ago. A very long time for them to be so silent for.” And that sent a chill down the man's spine, for it meant that very likely those “masters” were long dead. These servants were probably mechanical in nature, if their voices and manner were anything to go by. That meant he was the only fleshly person present, and never before had he been in the presence of so many mechanical people. They were a relic of another age, and people in this world today took them for demons. This place was supposed to be either abandoned or haunted by its' bleak reputation... in a way, it was haunted after all! But by beings that by all accounts lacked living souls. This was hardly optimal, but at least it seemed safer than wandering the desert. He would be sure to feed his mount, after he ate.
That was when he heard the footsteps, and saw walking towards him from a side chamber a very tall man, about seven feet tall... well past his own six feet of height... and, the tall man was as muscular as he was of great height. The man was pale and shaven so as that he had no hair upon his body anywhere. That he had access to such grooming meant the man was clearly civilized! Lord Krylor availed himself of grooming, as often as he could, but being a wanderer meant he had to keep grooming utensils with him in his mount's saddlebags, and that he had to make use of them sometimes whilst traveling which presented many difficulties. He would never do it whilst riding, of course, but instead did his shaving in the night when he stopped someplace to sleep after laying out his bedroll and setting up a campfire. He sometimes stayed at inns, or at the homes of people whom he knew and trusted... and it was easiest, to do there. He kept a mirror with him, and enough water so he never shaved dry. But during his flight to the citadel, he had few chances to spare the time to do so... and he knew there was some stubble on his face to be seen. This bothered him a little, he didn't like beards and preferred a clean shaven face! He had a mind to tend to that after feeding his mount, and felt a bit conscious of himself as the newcomer greeted him and said: “Welcome to the citadel, stranger! I too am a newcomer to this place, only I have been here for a week. My name is Tyrax, and I am a merchant from distant Celphar.” The man had the most exquisite of manners, and a noble bearing that belied his story about being a merchant. If he was a seller of wares, he was no common one. The barbarian smiled courteously and motioned for the man to have a seat across from him. The man named Tyrax shook his head, remained standing, and stated: “No thank you, I had a hearty breakfast already today. The food here, as you have probably noticed, is quite excellent! This place makes for not a bad home, if you do not mind the lack of any women. I myself... I do not mind that so much since I am a eunuch.” Lord Krylor should have assumed that, since the man had a round, feminine looking face and was wearing the kind of rich silken robes most eunuchs that he knew seemed to favor. Not he knew all that many, but the ones he knew of were much like this man. He said to Tyrax in an inquisitive and curious tone of voice: “I understand... but I am curious what brought you to this place! Me, I was fleeing from some men who sought to rob me and on finding I had nothing of value to steal... they sought my life instead. So... I came hither by accident rather than by design. But you... you do not have the look of a harried man!” Tyrax then decided to sit after all, and reclined in the chair in an effeminate manner that showed he had a taste for comfort and luxury. He rubbed his temples and then exhaled as he said to the barbarian before him: “That is kind of you to say... but there are many ways a man may be harried, if man I still even am. I question that anymore, to be honest with you! But I too was fleeing something when I came to the door of this place, and it may not have been bandits but it was something just as frightful. I was not expecting the beam of light that shot out from the door, nor at all was I expecting the strange voice that I was actually oddly enough able to understand. I was shocked just as much when the door opened and though in my time here since I was able to learn much about all of that and the meaning of it... along with the reason why I was allowed to enter herein... still I find this place to be very strange to my understanding. The curious automatons who act as servants for instance! There are no people to maintain them, so clearly they had to have learned how to maintain themselves. And yet... they can be single minded at times, laying out elaborate feats for people who could only be long dead. Also, something is in error here... because I have no memory of ever being here before, but the machines of this place insist that they recognize me as being of a race that is welcome here. That is why I was allowed in to begin with... and yet, I came to this place a stranger to it. As, I would assume, is the case with you?” The barbarian replied only by saying: “Yes and no in my case... I am a stranger to this place, just like you, but I am of the same race... clearly... as the people who once lived here. So, my story makes sense! Yours... is missing some facts, and that makes me even more curious. Such as... if you are not like me and of that ancient race, and how could you be unless you were either from that past era or a product of a very undiluted ancient bloodline, then truly the security systems must be in error!”
Then Tyrax blushed a bit, and said in an honest enough sounding tone of voice: “Five days ago, a very large party of raiders tried to enter this citadel. They pounded on the doors for some time, before out of the door shot a red beam of light that struck dead on the spot reach man that it touched, piercing clean through each one like a lance. Not one raider was left alive, and the servants came out and fetched their bodies, which they carried to a great furnace and burned until they were but ashes. I witnessed their fate by way of a camera in a place the servants call the security room. I was afraid it was the army of the evil king I used to serve come to drag me back to my former master. But even if it had been, their fate surely would have been the same! So believe me... the security systems are working and they are not in error.” To which the barbarian replied: “Then clearly there is something about you... which even you are not of yet fully aware. For you do not strike me as a liar! So I can only take you at your word.” The eunuch did then state: “Well I am glad I meet your approval, sir! Rather than the point of your blade.” Then, Lord Krylor said slyly: “So, you were fleeing something after all, just like me... which means you lied about your initial story of being a merchant.” Tyrax sighed and then said in a slightly irritated tone: “Sir, I am no liar! It was in the capacity of a master of coin... that is to say, a glorified merchant... that my master had employed me for a good many years before I tired of his cruelty and decided to flee his domain. He of course came after me, but turned back when my mount reached this desolation. His men cried out to me saying I was as good as dead if I entered therein, but I knew I would likely be tortured if they took me back. I have no tolerance for the pain of torture, and so I did the only thing I could... I sought out the citadel of legend to see if I could find some help here. I was... not expecting anything this nice.” And at that, the barbarian was satisfied. But he jested, saying: “An honest merchant! You're the first one I have ever met in my life.. and I have lived a long time indeed, Tyrax. My name is Lord Krylor. Perhaps you have heard of me?” But the eunuch merely shrugged his mighty shoulders and said: “I have not! But it does appear you have the look of a man who has lived long and seen much, whatever your actual age. I, in comparison, have a preference for comfort. And though I too have lived much and perhaps long... in no way could I live the way you appear to be used to living.” But the burns on the very top right of the pale eunuch's shaved head indicated that he had been acquainted with pain in the past. As did the scars on his arms and wrists... an indication of past unsuccessful suicide attempts. “We all have our pains we keep to ourselves, however. I simply do not wish to discuss mine!” Tyrax said, elaborating a bit further on seeing the curious look on the barbarian's face and waiting a bit as Lord Krylor said nothing. Then, at last, the barbarian said in a blunt manner: “I have lived since the old world, and I was ancient when it was new! I was... made this way, not burn this way. I will say no more of it than that.” Tyrax, on hearing this uttered aloud, said: “And I was ancient when that world's most ancient of histories was in its' dawn. So here we are, then! Two immortals... facing each other across a table that is a relic of a world we both are well acquainted it. It appears I was less than honest with you after all, my lord! I needed to study far less about this place and learn far less about its' secrets, than I had previously stated. Likely, I knew as much as you know about it... but everything else I have told you is the truth.” Lord Krylor chuckled a bit, and then said in a sincere... not mocking... manner: “So, then... were you a eunuch before you were made immortal, or is that a more recent development?” Tyrax then explained: “I was like this before. It is not a fresh development. I have had centuries beyond counting to learn to accept it. But only recently have I begun to ponder what my condition truly makes me... and whether I am a man or something else as a result.” Then, the barbarian stood up and said dutifully: “I have to go and feed my animal, and then see if I can bring it inside so raiders do not get it in their heads to hunt it for food. Them, or those devil beasts circling in the skies above! We will speak more later, I think.” Then, the barbarian stuffed many armfuls of food into a cloth sack that he found on the floor nearby, and headed back towards the main doors, trying to remember the way we came to get to the dining chamber. This was a strange day, and it was doubtless about to get even stranger! What were the odds of two immortals meeting like us? Odd.
The animal had long fled, so there was no going back. “Damn it! That stupid beast... now I am stuck in this forsaken citadel with no way to go back.” He screamed and hollered, and upon realizing how bad this all truly was he went back inside and sought out the eunuch. He told him the situation, and the pale man said to him in reply: “Mine bolted after throwing me a day before I reached the citadel. I arrived in these halls half dead from thirst and covered in sun burns so severe the servants had to tend to them. No that is not how I got the burns on my head that I saw you eyeing before! But this is for the best really. It is not likely that the world outside will ever fully accept people like us. Better to stay here and enjoy the comforts and protection the citadel can afford us.” The eunuch's eyes were big and pleading as he said all of that, and Lord Krylor was less than pleased with the idea. He shouted, loud enough to cause it so Tyrax had to cover his ears: “Listen to yourself! You may have given up on this world, but I have not... the people who lived here, they must have had some machines hidden away that served as conveyances. Places like this, in the time before... they always had such things. And fuel to make them work! I have to find them is all, get one of them up and running, and get as far from this accursed place as possible. I like the food, I really do... but I am not living here with you for the rest of my life.” Tyrax said to him in an almost hurt way, in reply to what he heard of what the barbarian screamed: “Fine! Go then... if only so that you will not make me deaf. Assume I have given up on my life! But I have not. I simply know a good thing when I see it, and since coming here I can live like royalty instead of being at the mercy of the whims of madmen who call themselves kings.” The barbarian said to that: “If you flee with me, I will protect you until I can get you someplace safe, someplace where you will be treated right by people and I know many monarchs... queens as well as kings... and many who are good and who would be all too happy to take you in. If you trust me!” Tyrax thought long and hard about that, rubbing his temples again as if his head pained him. Then he said: “Very well... I will trust you. This place... something is a bit odd here, I will admit that much. And... there has to be a reason fate brought us both here... as if we are meant to journey together for a time. Let us do so, and please... no more screaming! I am of a very delicate mentality no matter how strong I look. Too much yelling, and I am likely to weep like a baby.” Lord Krylor sighed, and said aloud though he meant to keep it to himself: “Great! On top of everything else, you are basically a child as well. I have all the luck sometimes!” And the eunuch began to shake a bit nervously, and looked as if he was about to cry. “Calm yourself!” said the barbarian, as calmly as he could muster the words, adding: “Everything is going to be alright. Come! Let us start searching what parts of the citadel we have not already been to. Those vehicles I am talking about must be someplace.”
“Can you fight if you must?” asked the barbarian as he handed the giant of a eunuch a dagger. The tall man took a scimitar from a plaque it was hanging on in one of the hallways as the pair walked along. It took a bit to test its' weight and balance, but it would do. The eunuch then explained: “I can fight well, I just... prefer not to unless there is no other choice. What do you think we will find in terms of trouble as we search this place?” Lord Krylor then explained: “Whatever killed the people who used to live here. I suspect they never left this citadel's halls, and that whatever was the death of them... the servants know nothing at all about it. Call me paranoid, but I like to be cautious! Better that... than dead.” The eunuch nodded his head, agreeing it made sense, and stated: “There is a stairway that leads down into a part of this place where the servants normally do not allow anyone to enter. Something has to be down there! If only we time it just right, then we could sneak on down when the servants are just busy elsewhere.” The pale giant was still quite nervous, and he fidgeted a bit with one of the two pearl earrings he wore, his slender looking hand... which was at odds with his muscular body... tugged on his ear slightly as he did so. “Just like a woman!” exclaimed the barbarian, to which Tyrax said: “You say that as if it was a bad way to be.” To which the barbarian exclaimed: “Very well then, my lady! Be as you wish, but be ready to fight if we are confronted by... whatever. I'll grant you... some women can fight exceptionally well.”
The stairway, sat in an alcove that periodically the servants would come by to check up on. They sent patrols to do this, armed with long lances. The guards... for guards those servants clearly were... would do this routinely, once every hour on the hour. Their internal clocks allowed them to see to this with the utmost precision. They would linger for precisely fifteen to twenty minutes, and then... satisfied nothing was going amiss... they would depart and return again later. One patrol would do this by day, another by night. Tyrax showed his companion the location, and the two of them hid in a nearby storage closet and waited for the patrol to leave. “We will have only a short time, after that patrol is gone, to sneak down the stairs without alerting them either upon their departure or on their return. We will have to move fast and silently!” the eunuch advised, and the barbarian agreed by nodding his head silently. “This fellow is far too fond of words!” He thought, preferring to talk less and do more. The eunuch's thoughts were a bit like a frightened but excited child's. He could not wait to find out what was down those stairs! But he did not wish to get in any kind of trouble for his curiosity. The pair rushed out of the closet as soon as the patrol was down the hall and around the corner and therefore well out of site. The servants had a distinctly metallic sound to their feet, and this patrol marched with military precision. That made them very loud indeed! Compared to the quiet steps of the two immortals who made their way to the alcove and down the stairs before the patrol had a mind to return. That was all it took, to enter the lower areas.
The stairs were metallic, and the deep winding shaft the spiral stairs descended was cut deep into the earth, or so it seemed. Whilst the barbarian and the eunuch made their way downward, many sounds of various sorts could be heard. The humming of large machines, the rushing of water, and the buzzing of electricity. Dim lights illuminated the descent, lights set into the walls of the stairwell, and the air was a lot hotter and more humid below than it was in the air conditioned halls of the citadel above. Eventually the stairwell ended and opened up into a massive cellar area that was high vaulted and evidently a great deal older than the above structure. This was something that was here before the citadel was ever built... and it looked almost like an ancient cathedral. Only there was no ornamentation or decoration, only the most spartan and bare rough outline of something grand. A place of worship, perhaps, but one made by a people more primitive who were trying to build something reminiscent of the grandeur of ages past. Crates and barrels, and boxes of various sorts lined the walls in alcoves lining both sides of the hall that ran before the pair who looked about them in wonder. The massive hall that was larger by far than any hall that either of them had ever been in... and in places the geometry was strange, as if space and time were affected somehow and things were slightly askew because of that. Behind glass windows set in the walls in various places, one could see quite elaborate underground gardens and places where food could be grown and processed. Artificial sunlight close enough to the real thing made this possible, and there were sprinkler systems to enough that what was grown was healthy from being well watered. Robotic automatons... that looked for all the world like metallic skeletons... tended these gardens endlessly. As the barbarian and the eunuch passed by this area and beyond into a deeper cavern system past a series of storage chambers that could have housed small villages... they began to notice a series of chambers that held within them metal containers that housed preserved human organs and body parts. Kept fresh by preserving fluids pumped into them from machines designed for that very purpose. “Strange, given that there are no people here any longer.” mused Lord Krylor aloud, to which Tyrax replied: “It seems that in this citadel, the left hand does not know what the right hand is doing.” For the servants above, it appeared, know nothing of what was actually going on down below. It meant that their masters could have been killed right under their very noses, and they never would have known. Assuming that it was to this place that their masters descended long ago. So far, other than these organs there was no sign of human life in this place at all. “What could they have used these... parts... for?” asked the eunuch. The barbarian was as bluntly honest as ever, saying: “Cloning, most likely. Spare parts. Very smart people!”
But not smart enough, it seemed! Else they would not have met their ends. Past this area, the tunnels grew dimmer and darker, and descended deeper and deeper into the ground. They passed by various odd laboratories and offices, and places that had not seen human use in far too long to count comfortably. It was peculiar, for they were kept pristine and with everything in order... immaculately cleaned and ideal in how they were maintained by the automatons who kept things this way. Only, with no people left to make use of any of it! Next, they came upon ancient crypts and burial places containing stone coffins of various sizes and elaborate looking sarcophagi fit for royalty. All set into alcoves dug unto the walls of the caverns wherein these resting places were dug in and hollowed out. There was a goodly number of these, but not enough to account for a whole people vanishing. And nothing indicating violence or any other sort of misfortune. There were inscriptions upon the various sarcophagi, but this time it was not in any language that either of the two strangers understood. Beyond these burial chambers were pits that functioned as mass graves, indicative of more hasty burials the deeper things went in this place. Now, this could account for things more clearly! Unless these were generations of burials. Piles of bones and skulls lined the chambers containing the mass graves, and these were placed to form pyramids in very precise designs. And still the tunnels ran deeper under the ground. The barbarian swore, and said in a course tone of voice: “By every god I can name and some I refuse to name! Does this go all the way to Hell itself?” The eunuch did not bother to answer, being scared enough that this could well be true. In no way was this place a normal or natural part of the world. Something was strange here, and alien. But in no way that either of the two could comprehend. “I have seen a lot in my lifetime, but I have never in all my years seen a place like this.” Said Tyrax, and the barbarian agreed, answering: “The same here!” And still they went onward, and downward, passing under enormous archways and vaults that were all empty but for enormous statues of alien gods and goddesses, with proportions not common to any sort of human shape. And monstrous visages that were ferocious and terrible to look upon! “A temple by the look of it, to whatever gods the people of this place once worshiped.” And Tyrax stated: “Or the devils they feared and wished to keep at bay... sometimes such as they can be considered gods also.” It was a bit evident that the eunuch was much more intelligent than he appeared to be, for the barbarian had just the slightest inclination to agree that these were devils rather than proper gods. And that was when they heard the sounds of shuffling coming from the shadows at the corner of the massive worship chamber. The broken remnants of benches and pews lined the chamber from end to end, and it appeared as if they were destroyed in a rage given the splintered look of the ancient and moldering wood. The smell of the wood's decay lingered in the air, along with fouler smells by far. “It reeks of death here!” exclaimed the eunuch as he covered his nose and mouth with his hands. “No! Ready your weapon... I have a feeling, we are unwanted guests here.” cautioned the barbarian. The eunuch took his scimitar in hand, in both hands, and suddenly several inhuman looking things sprang from the shadows to attack the two people.
They had been human once, but their skin was pure white like bone, their eyes large and their skin all covered with tumors and lesions. Some were covered in burns... some had their skin seeming to be in a state of being melted and hanging from the bloody meat beneath in places. They made pitiful noises and guttural sounds, unable to speak normal words any longer. They clawed with long, sharp fingernails but some held crude and primitive weapons that they wielded poorly. It was their numbers that were most concerning, for there were many of these creatures. But the two immortals had both been trained in the arts of combat by the greatest trainers on the planet. They had both been in wars and battles during the course of their long lives, and they had bodies capable of rapidly healing injuries and even regrowing of limbs if it came to it though that could take months. Better not to lose a limb than to be laid up for that long! And so they fought like lions against these beasts of the dark, and the horror of their adversaries... was the worst of it. “Radiation! That is what made them like this.” cried the barbarian, his voice loud.
The cancerous creatures that had once been human beings were naked save for the tatters of what of old had been their clothing, and these somewhat mutated things had become accustomed to the dark a great deal more than to the light. They had the advantage of knowing their environment, but that still in no way granted them the victory. The two immortals slashed and stabbed and cut the pitiful things into pieces, spraying their foul blood unto the floor in great puddles. After a time, the attack ceased and the things that remained ran off back into whatever tunnels they had emerged from previously. Many were cut into the walls of this chamber, though the largest was at the very back of the massive room. That, alone, was not crudely cut and the barbarian indicated that the pair of immortals should flee through it. “Quickly! Before more of them come out to play.” Lord Krylor said, and he and the eunuch ran through the opening as fast as their legs could carry them. Tyrax exclaimed: “So... they must be from the times of the great atomic holocaust that changed the world. I never wanted to see such horrible things, myself. But as is my fate, it seems I am subjected so such sights regardless! Disgusting things.” The back door, or whatever the opening was meant to be, took the pair into a vast underground area that appeared to be natural and almost untouched by the hand of humankind. Within it was a humongous metal structure as ancient as it was unnatural to the sight of these two strangers. It had wings like a bird, but the shape of it was circular like a saucer... and it had a high dome atop it with windows set into it. The structure sat on metal legs that supported its' bulk, and once it had been a flying craft from another world. But now, it remained secreted away deep beneath the citadel and a good distance away from it. The opening in the ceiling through which it had once descended was still there, and it was deep enough below the very surface of the earth that anyone looking down from above would see only darkness in its' depths... even by daylight. And from below, at night nothing at all would be seen looking above and upwards. By day, only the fainting hint of light from above! It was still night, evidently. “I have seen flying craft before... but never of this design.” remarked the barbarian to which his companion replied: “I have seen similar types of craft to this, but never this exact make or model. This might well be from another world than our own!” and the pair wondered if the people of the citadel might not have been originally from some other planet entirely. However, once the atomic holocaust struck the world and the world was broken and changed... any semblance of intelligence these people ever possessed was lost when their minds too broke and their bodies sickened and became afflicted. Whatever knowledge they had, if they had never preserved it then it was surely lost to the present age. “It appears that this craft is our only way out of this place and away to safety.” stated the barbarian, pointing to it for emphasis. “Unless it is out of the fuel it needs to run, if it requires any. It would be wholly useless to us if the craft cannot be started!” So said the eunuch, perhaps just to be contrary. “Are you always this cheerful about things? Asked Lord Krylor, and his companion shrugged his shoulders and said flatly: “I am a realist! It is good to simply be prepared for any possibility... even a negative one. And to consider backup plans when one's plans fail.” To which the barbarian said: “Well, I hope you have one if this bird doesn't fly! Because I have a bad feeling this is as far and as deep as these tunnels go.” But as they passed close to the craft, they saw a deep chasm in the ground that ran a good ways, and could hear the sounds of drums coming from the depths of it. And they saw dim torchlight below and what looked like bonfires amid a subterranean city that was primitive looking indeed, inhabited by more of those horrid creatures. Apparently, in this awful place things did indeed go deeper and deeper. “Come on! Let us get aboard the craft and see if we can escape this place... before the things below decide to come up to say hello to us.” Stated Lord Krylor. Luckily, the bottom hatch of the craft was open and the landing ramp extended... allowing the pair to sneak aboard the exceedingly large but utterly grounded vehicle. Once aboard, they made their way by chance to the engine room and had a look at the vessel's power core. The barbarian had no idea what to make of it, but Tyrax recognized the technology and managed to get it in order with the press of a few buttons and the pulling of one of two present levers. He did not know how he knew how to start that up.
“It was as if I had the knowledge within me, from a time in my life I have forgotten about.” he said as the barbarian gazed in awe. “Come on now... the bridge should be up four flights of stairs at the end of that hallway.” said the eunuch, and the barbarian asked: “Do you know how to fly this thing too, then?” to which the seven foot tall giant said: “I actually think I do, my lord! We may be in luck, after all.” And the two immortals reached the bridge... a circular chamber in the topmost section of the craft, within the dome that could be seen outside. It was filled with instrument panels that ran the circumference of the chamber, and there were windows and a large viewing screen. Empty metal chairs were at every panel, with black leather on the seats of them. These were for the bridge crew to sit and work the machines as powered the craft. It normally took a crew of five to seven to get such a craft up and flying, but in this case all it took was two men, one of which knew the technology of this vessel intimately. For it was, of old, his very ancestors that had piloted it. And their spirits were helping him even now to do what had to be done! Quick as a panther, the eunuch was at the controls of each panel and with the power on, the panels had their lights blinking and flashing... and soon Tyrax had everything in readiness for the craft's departure. He sat in the captain's chair and turned the viewing screen on, which displayed a view of the cavern before them. He pressed some buttons and soon a map was displayed in the upper right corner of the viewing screen, displaying the most optimal flight path through the opening above... to avoid hitting the sides of the opening as the vessel ascended. “Be seated wherever it pleases you, my lord! I am going to fly us out of here. The power core is good for a thousand years, and luckily for us it has two hundred years to go before it needs to be recharged.” stated the eunuch happily. The barbarian sat down at what had once been the weapons station, though he did not know that about it. Tyrax did, and he smiled. All of this was in rightness, all of this felt as it should. He flew the craft out through the opening, and oddly enough its' engine was rather quiet though it did make an audible whirring sound a bit like the blades of a helicopter. The vessel emerged from the ground and glided across the wasteland towards no direction in particular. “Go that way!” shouted Lord Krylor excitedly, recognizing well the view of the landscape before them on the screen. “The lands of Queen Yastlir lie out that way, and she is one of those decent rulers I was telling you about.” The eunuch then smiled and said: “Very well then, I will drop you off at her very doorstep... but I myself feel a sort of pull to fly southward. I think some of the descendants of my people are living there, ones who did not suffer so horribly in the atomic holocaust but who escaped and founded of old their own civilized kingdoms. I do not know how I know this, but I do and I must be going to answer their call. It is in my mind, in my heart, in my very blood! This is my destiny.” And as the craft soared to the kingdom of Queen Yastlir... the largest storm in recorded history ravaged the area of the wastelands in which the citadel lay. Rain poured down upon the soil, and lightning struck down from black storm clouds that were blacker than the night itself. Meanwhile, in the far off lands that did belong to the noble queen... the skies were calm and clear and all was ideal. When Lord Krylor arrived at her palace, dropped off by the strange flying metal bird (for that it what it looked like to the people of the queen's land)... the queen decided to name Lord Krylor a god and make him her consort. He decided to accept, and when she claimed the craft was a god from her people's myths and legends he never once had a mind to correct her. The barbarian knew a good thing when he saw it, and decided it was time for a life of comfort for once. Meanwhile, his friend the eunuch named Tyrax flew the craft southward and was drawn to the location of one of his people's ancestral kingdoms. They waited for him there, and at last he would be someplace where he could feel at home and welcome. Where he would be free to live without fear or torture or the displeasure of despotic monarchs. His people welcomed him, and did so with open arms... and for the next two hundred years the flying craft would sit untouched, until at last its' power was depleted. It would never fly again, but its' final flight had been to take Tyrax home, to a home he had always longed for but which he never knew was waiting for him. He was happy that he so listened to Lord Krylor and left the citadel after all. This was his destiny, and finally he could fulfill it.
Published 13th Oct 2023
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