Chapter CCLXXXIX: Fate Tightens Her Binds ~Lich/Naaro

Lich turned around to see his brother run towards him as the group paused. “What kept you?” he asked.

“I was thinking,” he lied. “You know how I get.”

Lich nodded and continued down the hill, leading the group.

“Lord, I do not mean to be as so rude,” the green Yoshi started, “but dost thou have a name?”

“My name in full or just my shortened version?” Lich grinned.

The green Yoshi paused. “What dost thou mean, Lord?”

“I have two names. My full name is Dyluck Thanatos Yoshi von Kippo, Pee-aitch Dee Yos-Ana Yoshiville, Guardian of the Cyan Arc, the Spoken of Recugrian’s Blood, Lord of the A’gul. Call me Lich.”

“I shall remain to callest thou ‘Lord’,” the green Yoshi said.

“If that’s what you want. What’s your name?”

“Lord, my name is Hl’garng,” said the Yoshi.

“Arrow,” Ark translated into Pandoran beneath his breath.

“Why are you called that?” Lich asked.

“I am as quick and deadly as the arrow, in the hunt, Lord.”

“So did you hatch with that name?”

“My hatching name was Arg’lehg, Lord.”

“Speed,” Ark noted as he translated.

“Did you hatch quickly?”

“I did, Lord. I was eager to leave the shell.”

“I suppose that Dyluck would be my own hatching name and Lich my adult name,” he said. “We don’t have hatching names and adult names in the Islands anymore. Ceremony and religion have…dwindled. My parents are religious, though, and we are too, even though we are friends with the gods and goddesses, like Markior.”

“Thou becomest friends with the gods and goddesses?”

“Yes, he has,” Markior replied.

“Truly, thou art he of which Aggli hath spoken, Lord!”

Lich chuckled. He turned to the other two Yoshies. “What are your names?”

“Ul’gah, Lord,” the red Yoshi replied, “and my hatching name was Ng’gul.”

“Eng’g, Lord,” the blue Yoshi answered. “I hatched with the name L’ng.”

Ark translated Ul’gah’s names to “Strength” and “Blessing” respectively, while Eng’g’s hatching name translated to “Joy”. “Eng’g” was an entirely foreign word. “What does Eng’g mean?” he asked, after he moved up to the rest of the group.

“It meaneth that I am like the Ng’g beast,” Eng’g replied.

“What is the Ng’g beast?”

“The Ng’g beast is tough as a rock is tough. It is covered in spikes and one may findeth a beast on the hillsides. It rolleth into creatures to attack them and eat them. We are too big for it to eat; however, when they roll into one, he will be injured.”

Eng’g rubbed his leg as he seemed to remember an experience.

“If I may ask, what is thy name?” Hl’garng asked.

“Ark Beruga Yoshi von Kippo, Guardian of the Ebony Lance,” he answered.

“And what is thy hatching name?”

“Ark Beruga Yoshi von Kippo,” he answered.

“Thou dost not have an adult name?”

“No.”

“Once thy brother is inducted, thou shalt be tested and a name shalt be given.”

Ark smiled at this. Now he had a reason for another name, like his brother.

The canopy finally opened up again as they reached the bottom of the mountain. The valley floor appeared to be a fertile plain with the odd solitary tree or grove littered around it, as if they had been applied with a salt shaker. To his left, the land sloped gently upwards towards some more rainforest-covered hills, though some were barer than others. Another ridge rose up in the distance ahead of him, while to his right, the valley made a turn to the left, the mountains hiding its destination. Neatly centred in the valley was the village Markior had seen. It definitely looked tribal with a collection of rude huts and tree groves that served as even cruder housing. There was a fire somewhere in it, judging by the small plume. To the right of the village, there seemed to be another hunting party coming back, made up of six Yoshies…

Lich stopped, blinked, and took another look at the group. One of them seemed to be a lot more fully-coloured than the others. He shut his eyes and rubbed his eyelids with his forefinger and thumb, then re-opened them and looked at the group once more.

“Oh…no…” he muttered.

“What is it, Lord?” Hl’garng started, but already Lich was sprinting towards the village, calling the captive’s name.

As Naaro entered the village, a familiar voice caught his attention. “Lich?” he asked as he turned to face in the voice’s direction.

“Naaro!” Lich shouted, waving to the Karmali.

Naaro’s eyes caught Lich, and he waved back. “Lich! What are you doing here?” he inquired, moving towards him.

Markior teleported in beside Lich as one of the hunters’ hands was about to stop Naaro from moving. The party whispered among themselves before they knelt – they had recognized their Lord, and their prey apparently knew him. Had Markior pupils, he would have rolled his eyes.

“I was about to ask that myself, Naaro,” Lich remarked as he and Naaro greeted each other with a handshake.

Naaro nodded and chuckled, answering first, “These Yoshies found me and were going to have me for dinner…in the ‘eating me’ sense.”

Lich gave his acknowledgement with a nod, and chuckled as well. “Well, seeing as I’ve been declared their Lord, I don’t think you’ll have to worry,” he told Naaro reassuringly.

“Alright, good to know,” Naaro happily responded, acting as if he had never even been captured by the Yoshies.

The party looked strangely at Naaro, but when Lich approached them, they all bowed as quickly as their bodies could get into position, speaking words of praise and honor to their lord. Naaro walked up beside Lich and looked at them.

“Gee, you weren’t kidding,” Naaro remarked, looking them over with a slightly confused look on his face. After a minute of silence, Naaro tapped Lich on the shoulder and stated matter-of-factly, “Okay, let’s go over there so you can explain this to me.”

“I’ll stay here. I think I’m going to get swamped by ‘my faithful followers’,” Markior sighed.

Naaro took Lich to what could be considered an alleyway between two of the huts. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“To tell the truth, I wish I knew the whole detail of it,” Lich replied. “I don’t suppose you would have heard of the Prophecy of Two Worlds, would you?”

“Er…no,” Naaro answered.

“Okay…how do I explain this…you heard of a Recugrian Yoshi? Lived about five hundred years ago?”

“Never heard of him.”

“He united the tribes of the Islands, was a powerful warrior and magician, so anyone who didn’t rally with him got banished to purgatory.”

“Ouch.”

“Or so the legend states. But what has happened over the years, most likely, is that the word ‘G’lirer’ has been corrupted into ‘G’lirr’ back home. These are the lost tribes of the Archipelago. And, since Recugrian is my great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather by direct descent, I seem to have some special role to play in everything. That’s what the Prophecy of Two Worlds is. I thought that when I came across the Prophecy that it meant Fa’Diel and Yamauchi, because it talks about things such as my birth, but it seems to mean G’lirer instead of Fa’Diel.”

“Hang on, hang on,” Naaro said, raising his hands defensively. “You’re part of a prophecy?”

“Two, it seems at this rate. The Prophecy of Two Worlds goes something like, ‘The time shall come to pass when the ninth direct son of Recugrian will be born off this world. He shall come back from the dead, holding the fates of his two worlds in his hands. He will fight for them, yet on another world altogether.’”

Naaro paused as he let this sink in. “Right. So why are they kowtowing to you around here?”

“Read the Yoshi Palimpsest?”

“No, I don’t.”

“You ought to at some stage,” he said, getting a personal copy of the sixteenth edition out of his storage. “The prophets’ words are written down in it, and it gets added to with recognition of more prophets. That’s why it’s a palimpsest. They’re going to need a seventeenth edition after this.”

“Right.”

Lich flicked through the book until he reached the Book of Aggli, then turned until he reached the ninth chapter. “Read this bit here,” he commanded, giving the book to him whilst pointing to the two verses.

Naaro did so, and raised his non-existent eyebrows. “Well, I take it that ‘great spirit’ means Markior, but Hunter?”

“Ark,” Lich replied.

“Okay…so,” Naaro paused, “they’ve made you their king, chieftain, whatever, because you came out of the mountains when whatever happened to the Spectrum happened.”

“Yes. So, I’m guessing that the ‘his two worlds’ part, as I seem to have been granted a lot of power all of a sudden here, means here and Yamauchi.”

“…Right,” Naaro said, paused, then nodded.

“I’m just as confused as you are,” Lich said. “Though, I might have some direction to my confusion.”

All the villagers had gathered around Markior on Lich and Naaro’s return, and were in a state of humility, either on their knees or kowtowed. Some devout Yoshies were prostrate. All of them seemed to have some paint on them in one form or another.

“Stop that,” he begged. “Please. I don’t like–“

“Hail Markior! Praise Markior!” a yellow Yoshi called, and the whole congregation erupted into repeating the phrase.

Markior looked up at Lich and Naaro, his eyes seeking their help. Lich could not help smirking.

This is not funny, Lich, he sighed in his head.

He shut his eyes and clenched his fists.

“ENOUGH!”

The Yoshies were shaken by the outburst. As the last echoes exited the valley, there were more people lying prostrate than standing.

“I apologise for this in advance,” he growled. “It seems that you seem to hold me in some sort of fear. I may be the God of the Mind and I may be the Guardian of the Yoshi Race. I may have incredible powers. However, as much as I appreciate your reverence, I do not like your displays of such.”

“Oh wise one, have mercy upon me for I ask if we give thee too little?” a Yoshi announced, trembling.

The cries of worship began to escalate again, more fervent and desperate than before.

“No! Stop!” Markior cried, to be answered by silence once more. “You give me too much!”

The crowd muttered to themselves. “Then how shall we worship thee?” another quivering Yoshi called above their voices.

“By not worshipping me, but him.”

Markior pointed at Lich, and all the assembled Yoshies turned to look at him.

“Ma–“ Lich started, but was silenced by the gaze of the crowd.

“The Prophet Aggli has decreed that someone will come out of the mountains with the Great Spirit and the Hunter, and rule over the tribes. I present you with the Spoken of Recugrian’s Blood.”

Lich saw Hl'garng stand up, noticing that he had arrived some time ago. "I was there to witness it."

"Hl'garng speaks the truth," Markior stated.

All of the Yoshies' eyes were trained on Lich, who shrank away.

"Where is the Hunter?" a Yoshi called.

"Here," Ark answered, arriving next to Lich.

Lich turned to him. "You took your time."

Ark shrugged. "Was I needed in a hurry?"

"I suppose not."

"Who is the other?" another called.

"A friend," Lich replied.

Naaro nodded.

Lich noted that everything was happening just as crowd situations seemed to be written in the Palimpsest, where the flow of conversations was unnatural. He shook his head to try and clear it.

“I seem to be your leader, according to Aggli,” he said casually. “What do I do now?”

“The sign!”

“He asketh what is expected of him, just as Aggli said!”

Unsure whether to roll his eyes or say something, Lich remained silent.

“He requests an answer,” Markior announced, picking up on Lich’s frustration.

A faded blue Yoshi stood up, catching Lich’s attention. His age placed him in the mid-afternoon of his life, with his wisps of hair a dark-grey, tipped by snow-white. His body was adorned in many different colours of paint in complicated patterns, from forehead to foot. Lich eyes watered as he tried to make some of them out. The Yoshi’s goldenrod eyes locked themselves onto Lich as he limped towards him.

“I relinquish my title, Lord, and proclaim thee as the new chieftain of the A’gul,” he said. He dropped onto a knee as he arrived, slightly startling Lich. He then sprung back up with a groan.

“Please, if it brings you injur–“

“I must, Lord, otherwise the A’gul will not treat thee as thou art truly,” he replied. “My name is Ung’grl, hatched Hl’ngk.”

Ark translated the names to Peace and Faith in his mind as he watched the blue Yoshi turned around to face the others, raising his arms.

“Let the preparations for the feast continue!” he proclaimed. “It is most fortunate that The Spoken One arriveth as we begin the Feast of the Second Moon, for we already have much of what we need! Hunters, Gatherers, Builders and Collectors, I will tell you what more is required! The others, with the Great Spirit’s permission, please return to your work!”

Markior caught Ung’grl’s glance. “As was said. Please return.”

The throng stood in their own time and scattered back into the village, while another group began to cluster around Ung’grl, who turned back to Lich.

“Please wait in my hut, Lord,” he said. “It is the largest. I will come in to talk to thee after I make more preparations for thy acceptance and administration. Take your friend and the Hunter with thee. I trust Markior will do what he thinketh fit.”

“Thank you,” Lich nodded. He gestured to Ark and Lich to come with him.

Now that he was in the village, Lich could see that its houses and shelters were gathered around a central area in an elliptical shape. A crude mound of earth was in the middle, moulded into a rectangular shape by large sticks, rammed into the ground and lashed together to keep it in shape. A smaller rectangular shape was being formed on top of it in the middle, and Lich could see the beginnings of a covering on top of both of them with more cut branches. It seemed to look a bit like an altar. A fire was burning gently before the mound. Lich saw a Yoshi dump an armful of wood in a pile off to one side of the open area, and judged it was the firewood pile. There seemed to be a lot of it.
The largest hut was at the furthest end of the village, directly behind the altar, located at the sharpest curve of the oval. Whereas the other huts seemed to have two or three domed roofs, this had about six. Its walls seemed to be made out of tightly packed earth, wrapped in thin, papery bark. It had gaudy paint on it too, arranged into patterns and symbols, some of which Lich could recognise from Ung’grl’s own paint. They reached the door and waited.

Lich shook his head. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he said. “I’m not sure if I want anyone to pinch me, I might wake uh-ow!”

Ark retracted his hand. “Looks real to me,” he said.

“That wasn’t an invite!”

Ark smirked.

“I don’t think that’s funny,” Lich said, a hand on his hip.

Ark stopped and shrugged. The three waited in silence.

The Dark Lich was also waiting. He hovered next to the pool, his red eyes shaded. A minute later, they were bright and fiery again.

“I do not know why I continue to trust that lizard,” he spoke to himself as he slowly moved along the bank. “I know that he is his brother’s weakness...so I should be able to use him.”

He stopped, and lowered a digit to his jaw.

“I know it is not wise to use someone like him…confused, scared, unstable…but now is the time to strike. I cannot face him for that Boomerang is allied with Lumina, and he knows the powers of light, which is why I use him.”

He began to move again, still in thought.

“Havering’s offer must still stand. I have not seen him for years…but, he remembers things, and remembers them well. If I can kill the blasphemous creature, I will have no weakness against the powers of light. Surely, his offer must still stand!”

He smacked a fist into his palm with a crunching noise.

“Yet he grows stronger…he now has that tribe behind him. Pitifully weak in their art of war, little knowledge of the arcane arts, yet the power of numbers remains. If it wasn’t for the Knight, I’d have gained control of Pandora…and never would have had to deal with the lizards! I have no allies here, I have no creatures…I only have myself. And I will destroy him.”

Dark turned and hovered over the water, and began to stir it with his bony forefinger idly.

“The two of them have two of the Jewels, yet...”

He stood a moment, before flinching. He slammed a fist down into the water.

“Why did it have to be that one?! Are the powers of fate against me?”

He heaved a sigh and went back to relative calmness, stirring the water again.

“I have been too gentle before,” he said, “but not anymore.”

He lifted up his finger and let the drops slide off the bones.

“He will die.”