Chapter CCCXI: Hey, Can You Recall Him? ~Markior



As night fell over the tribal village, the spirit Yoshian silently hovered away from the village. Preparations for the festivities were underway, and truth be told, he couldn’t have been more relieved. The constant worshipping had gotten to him. He chuckled in his mind, admitting to himself that further mentioning and hooking into the ‘Prophecy’ to the tribe was not only a truth…but it gave him a break, too.

Poor Lich, he thought, and quietly laughed to himself.

Finally getting a moment to himself, no longer the centre of attention of the tribal Yoshies, he began reflecting upon events past. Standing atop of a stone ridge and looking out over the nearby valleys of sand and wood, as the last remaining orange glow of the sinking sun slid down towards the horizon, he closed his eyes.

It is amazing how fate and coincidence interact. For to have finally found the remaining people of the species I protect...simply because The Time Bender and son got a little overexcited…he thought, his silhouette shifting forms against the horizon.

His Archonic Shape once more replacing his Yoshian Form, he mentally sighed. The Yoshi shape, granted only to familiarize himself with his species those millennia ago, felt more restricting to him with the passing of each decade. It began to hold him back, like a hired suit on a business meeting. He looked at his old, clawed hand, clenching it, feeling the white energy surround his body as his Archonic three “electrons” encircled his hovering form. Taking on a pose and fighting an imaginary enemy, he let his thoughts wander.

The Tribals will have to understand that we cannot remain here. Somewhere out there, the threat of The Time bender and the Council is rising…and who knows what else. I feel it…like a room where the walls slowly close in on one another.

He stood still, looking at the slowly rising full moon, his white eyes illuminating the area around his face.

I’m having too much of these inner monologues.

He looked around at the campfire in the middle of the tribal village, which danced and flickered even from a distance away.

So long ago, I revived them all…the baseline of Yoshian blood which began these tribes... For such great potential of elemental magiks still lies dormant within them. But mayhaps my time will end before their full strength ever surfaces…How will the Yoshians here ever be able to reunite with those on Yamauchi...? Even if they overcome the obstacles in belief and legacy, their time has stood still while the others have already picked up spacecraft...

He rumbled, looking down at a small boulder. Narrowing his eyes, he calmly lifted it with his mind, then flung it in the distance. A quick burst of mental energy flashed from his eyes, crumbling the tired stone to dust and sand...

Controlling time itself, not only through power, but even through an outburst of too much of it. I can’t help but envy that Time Bender. The only thing close to warping the fabrics of time I managed is by gravitational push or pull…that doesn’t even come close.

He clenched a fist.

And that weapon…that accursed weapon of Lich’s brother. Why does it taunt me even when it’s silent? he rumbled. There’s something more to it, than just a Shadowspirit. There must be. Maybe not within the weapon, but channeling through it, or...

He looked up at the rising moon again.

Or something else... We need to get back to business. The replosion must’ve repositioned Artanis as well...hmm...

Closing his eyes again, he put two fingers on his fronthead. He calmed, and cleared his mind...

Meanwhile, the young Protoss Artanis rudely awoke from his unconsciousness-induced sleep. The inner window of his Scout was covered with a bit of glowing blue blood. After the replosion had occurred, the Protoss and his Scout ship was flung together with the Spectrum through the vast fabric of space. Now, inside the hangar, an annoying poking in his brain forced him to open his gently glowing eyes.

Aaagh...” he murmured mentally, holding his head and looking around. “By Adun.. What happened...I’m…I’m inside the hangar again...?”

He looked at the bit of dried light-blue blood on the inside of his ship, and sat up straight, checking the controls of his modified Protoss Scout for any damage. A voice was calling out to him though, one he could not deny hearing; telepathy. It was the Markior, the Archonic commander he had set out to find, found, and was now in league with to help in any way he could against the Twilighter forces. Clearing his mind, he responded to his call.

“Yes, Markior, I’m here.”

“Good. Good to hear you, Artanis. What is your current position?”

“I am inside the Spectrum, it seems. Where the Spectrum currently is, I have no idea. Nothing’s being picked up by the scanners. It’s as if I’m inside a nothingness within the nothingness of space itself.”

Back on G’lirer, Markior blinked. That was new.

That is odd. Can you recall out of there to my position? Just use me as a psychic beacon.”

“I can,” Artanis responded. “But it shall take some time. According to my data, you are...well...quite far away, to say the least. Recall cannot cross this length, so I will have to travel some through normal means, too.”

“That is fine. Before you leave, leave a Beacon inside the Spectrum. We’ll need it operational if we’re going to regroup. I want Multehx’s and the others’ position as soon as possible. I feel uncomfortable knowing that any of the Wanderers might have to face Twilighters on their own.”

“It shall be done. I cannot estimate my time of arrival, but I shall try to hurry.”

“Good. En Taro Adun.”

Adun Toridas.”

Markior turned and opened his eyes. He looked at the dark horizon as the moon heightened in the star-filled sky above.

I wonder if I can focus enough Total Grey one day to cause a replosion on my own. It would be a great party trick.

He mentally grinned at himself, discarding the idea as fast as it had come up. It was foolish, anyway. He clenched his fists, straightened out his fingers, then clenched a fist again, rumbling. He had to fight something, all this time without a worthy battle was getting on his nerves.

He started his descend back to the village, his shape shrinking and blackening back to his old Yoshian Form.

Observing the campfire, a sudden peak in the Mana Field caught his attention, hitting him like a sting in the eye. As the moon rose higher and midnight neared, the Feast of the Second Moon beginning, he looked around, sensing it coming from Ark’s location, or further away, one way or another. He grumbled again. Things were not as it seemed.