The Critter, the Zealot and the Queen

  (One reflection, or one season, after the death of Dorrad Chaos)

  Three beings stand outside the grand city Original Den, a confusing shape that never repeats itself as, building after building, it peeks out of the sand suggesting any truth of its size is buried deep. The three do not speak as they move through the dune streets towards the center where a massive pyramid sits watching over the city with its ornate Pyramidion eye. Darkness strikes with no moonlight to guide them, the many buildings and streets empty with no sign that life had ever been in this place. The entrance of the pyramid is a gaping hall leading inwards, luring them to a darkness that seems to blind, as if a torch could not quell its presence. In and in they go.

  Eventually there is a room with a light, a door, and a cat sat atop a pedestal. The three rest here removing packs, setting out mats, preparing tea, lighting a lamp and opening rations. There are two women and one man that make up the group, the two women sit and begin some type of hand exercise while the man stands looking towards the blocked passage. The man poses a lean figure, smooth complexion and pilgrim's robes. He removes a box from his bag and reveal's its insides to have a crank and musical device. Delicately the man raises the box to eye level and looks at it with a concentrated intensity.

  "You mentioned a denizen would be prepared to guide us through this place, certainly you didn't mean a cat would be our guide." The Old Pilgrim sounds gentle but his words cut. Each time something could be condescending it is given an extra punch with articulation to make sure you know he's making a fool of you.

  The box rings a tune and after a moment the Pilgrim lowers it to look over at one of the women. A stout and sinewy character, long hair and a striking red motif to her makeup and outfitting. Clearly disciplined as plate covers most facets constantly, even as she rests.

  "I believe it is laughing at you" The lady warrior says. "You could ask the cat, the guidance of the box is limited and..." She stops, cut off.

  " 'I've desecrated this sacred relic by wasting its time.' Starlove, I trust what you say when it is repeated enough to be carved in stone using nothing but your voice." The Pilgrim calmly says with a frown before turning to the cat-on-pedestal "Aaaaare you our denizen guide little critter?"

  The cat looks at Starlove who nods with her eyes shut, then at the man and finally says "How can I help you?"

  The Old Pilgrim prepares a snarl for the cat.

  "We would like passage through your lovely door" Starlove cheers after sipping a bit of hot tea.

  The cat stands, stretches and hops off the pedestal to check the four corners of the room as he begins a practiced speech "My name is Rattcliffe, I know almost everything. I have guarded this door a forgettable number of centuries and it is my job to determine whether you are fit to pass or not. The rules are simple, teach me something I do not know and you may pass."

  "My name is Kren" Pleased with himself, the Pilgrim cracks a stupid smile.

  "I know you." Rattcliffe says through a smirk while giving the door a hopeless glance.

  "This seems unfair! you know everything how could I possibly..." Kren looks down at Rattcliffe who is now scratching at his pant-leg with a playful purr.

  "I know _Almost_ everything, I did not make the rules but I promise you this door will not open unless you follow them." Rattcliffe finally satisfies the scratching needs and moves to sit on Kren's backpack in a sphinx pose.

  Kren attempts to move Rattcliffe from his new found habitat as the cat somehow dodges his grasp, left and right, as if some magnet were hidden within his coat of hair. The two go back and forth until Kren eventually wins, shooing Rattcliffe off the oblong pack. "This is a waste of time, the test is a trick surely the door opens some other way and this vermin is here to make us their fool." The Old Pilgrim says with a pout; moving over to the door in anticipation. He touches the four corners of the door pushing and prodding as he mutters curses.

  ---

  Heber, the third figure in the group, has taken Kren's place pacing around the room. She is a horrible mess, wearing the facade of a forest critter over her face and a torn dress that was clearly once pure white. Heber remains silent for long periods of thought followed by short quips of knowledge.

  "Have you ever left this room?" Heber asks.

  The denizen, now in a resting pose, cracks one eye open to look at Heber "Not once."

  "So you know everything because of some spell? or have you truly learned all you know from nothing but a cheap riddle?" A genuine curiosity of Heber's.

  Rattcliffe closes his eye and politely responds "It could be both. I have learned an incredible amount of information from souls overcoming the door. However my memory is to be called upon when you offer knowledge, otherwise what I know is a haze."

  "I believe that's how my memory works too." Heber concludes. "What interests me is how your memory functions in relation to the door. For example, does the door know when you have learned something new? or do you have to authenticate with the door?"

  Rattcliffe, excited by all the questioning, pitches in with a curled tail "The door opens when I have learned something new, I do not control the door nor does it control me."

  Kren approaches the cat with a scroll, pitching in to the conversation "Out of curiosity, could you tell me if this looks familiar to you?" He opens the scroll displaying a simple map of a continent with towns, cities and roads shown using a simple legend. A clear lack of names for the many landmarks, instead simple runes are used when necessary.

  "I recognize this as a map used by explorers. It has been in manufacture for over two decades. Originally drafted by the Cordon research team and eventually mass produced after the discovery of an old printing press. Press tech history is fascinating considering it has been invented twice, discovered over two dozen times and condemned three times over the course of almost exactly one millennium." Rattcliffe lights up like a decoration.

  Kren looks to Starlove with a look of reciprocated awe.

  "I have never met a denizen who claims to know as much history as you do." Starlove utters. "How old are you? Unfortunate one."

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "I have lived a loop, there was no moment to begin. There was a time when my memory was reset to suffer the riddle, however, I do not remember when that will happen." Rattcliffe says with a confused tone.

  "I have only recently learned of the reality of denizens, my kingdom knows none of your sentient capabilities but I consider yours a dire reality." Heber says in a slightly prayer-like rhythm, as most of her remarks sound.

  "This has been very... disorienting, I need to come up with better questions. A nap might do me some good." Kren says, a yawn attempting to hide somewhere in his words.

  Everyone catches the yawn like a contagion and a nap is begun.

  ---

  The following morning maps, books and study notes are orderly placed around the room. once again the group is taking rounds, guessing answers.

  "Let's say there is an unknowable paradox that I take a guess at, disguising my guess as fact. If i guess right would the door open? It is a paradox, or rather it could be either-or however it is unknowable even by you." Kren suggests with a hardened-confused look on his face.

  "I appreciate the interrogations but it's you that has to teach me, also I have no idea, take a crack at it." Rattcliffe, sat upright on his engraved marble pedestal, says with a bright and willing tone.

  "Alright, everything that has happened, everything that's happening as we speak and everything that will happen in following moments is static and cannot be changed." Kren says with his chest puffed out to imitate the actions of someone that would know this truth.

  "Zealot" Starlove mumbles to the ground.

  The Door swings open without hesitation from Starlove's comment. Everyone perks up in surprise and a moment of silence clouds the room.

  "Hah!" Kren points to Warmonger Starlove with an ugly crack in his face shaped like a smile "It's a simple truth really, something I wouldn't expect you to..."

  "It was the zealot part" Rattcliffe interrupts "Last time your moon lady came through here she used the 'what's happened, happened' line. On the other hand I knew you were a follower but you have none of the attributes of a zealot."

  "Actually I was there when we reformed, it's a real challenge trying to not believe something you caused." Kren lets out.

  The three travelers packed up their things and prepared to move on.

  "So you didn't know i was a Zealot?" The Old Pilgrim says with a disappointed face.

  "Ya learn somthin' new every day!" Rattcliffe mocks.

  ---

  Heber begins to sweat as her heart pounds its way up her throat. She pulls a collection of mechanisms out of a small pack she carried with her. When the parts art placed in the right orientation and wrapped together they construct a weapon known as a thrower. A diabolical device, crafted by a genius from her home, that would project a small metal bead in the direction it is pointed when activated. Heber despises these weapons however given this was likely the end of her journey she would not let her own morals obscure the chance of success. Heber hardly noticed but she had hesitated at the door when she realized what was happening.

  'Im... holding a weapon?' She thinks "They dont know what this thing is... I think."

  "Is that a gun?" Kren says crassly.

  Heber somehow froze more than she already had. Her muscles stiff, her lungs shut tight. She nearly passes out before Starlove speaks up

  "I dont think this place will have another riddling cat with a challenge of the shooting range" Giggles the Warmonger.

  "I just... don't feel safe" Heber shivers.

  "Can I see that thing?" Kren shoves his hand out as he stares at the Thrower. "I've never seen a gun that looked like that."

  "No" Heber whispers.

  "Do you even know how to use it?" Starlove adds.

  "Yes" Heber utters "It is called a Thrower. Not a gun."

  "Huh" Starlove and Kren hum together before both moving on through the door.

  A room without walls. One level that stretches out into a smokey scene of stars and nebulae. A short distance from the door rests a marble tablet with symbols in a grid pattern that mirror from each side. The further from the center a character is the more often it _seems_ to change although no moving part presents itself. Heber slowly approaches the artifact behind the other two who had begun to poke it.

  "I mean, its just a slab." Kren says, attempting to shake it.

  "I've never seen anything like it, look around maybe we're missing something." Starlove suggests.

  "No no, this is it. Look at the room its in, you wouldn't leave something in this vault unless it was what we're looking for." Kren, who had begun to chip away at the precious artifacts weak sandstone face, says so sure of himself.

  "Woah, hey don't do that yet, we should at least take notes." Starlove says, sensibly.

  "We got a good look at it, what more do we need? Lets destroy it and leave." Kren almost growls the words.

  Heber squeezes the handle of the thrower and raises it at Kren and Starlove "Please don't do that." Closing one eyes as she squints from the anxiety of the moment.

  "I don't mean to be annoying but I saw this coming" Kren sighs.

  "Let me contact the artifact, that's all I need." Heber stutters.

  "I'm guessing it's not a coincidence Starlove and I ran into you on our way here then? Honestly I didn't expect it, but I guess that was an ignorance I afforded my nerves." The Pilgrim's entire character shifts as he utters the words in a stoic and serious tone.

  "I don't want to hurt you." Heber says, straightening up trying to look as stoic as Kren.

  "Good." Kren steps forward to grab the thrower, unable to pry it from Heber's grip before a blow from behind knocks him to the ground.

  "Most of us are actually reasonable" Starlove apologizes as she reels her spear into a resting position. "From my side of Dorrad Den at least. Just saying I think he is a bit of an outlier"

  "Uhm, Thanks." Cautiously Heber returns to her path towards the tablet, confused once she reaches it. "I didn't expect to make it this far. I'm not sure what to do."

  "I came here to gather all the information I could about this artifact, If you can get it working I would like to know how." Startlove says standing her spear down on its tip to rest her arms on its pommel.

  "It uses the language of confluence. It can say things about time but it can never change it, as the pilgrim's goddess said 'what's happened, happened'. An expression of faith in my opinion but a truth nonetheless." Heber reaches out to touch the face of the slab.

  "Wait!" Starlove exclaims with a surprised expression on her face. "What... Why do this? I mean what happens next?"

  "My people were wiped clean by the same beast that crippled yours. Historical Evidence can send me back to try it again. I can give my people a second chance" Heber lies, choking on the words yet she powers through with a quiver "I have to know if it's true, if what happened truly happened." She reaches out, touches the slab, says "Bat Isse Fino-Kastrofia", and like a popped bubble she disappears.

  ---

  A deep rumble shakes the ground that Starlove and Kren are huddled on, wrestling each other to the ground. The body of a massive beast escapes a nearby nebula for a moment as the two struggle to get a hold on each other. Kren grabs the back of Starlove's neck and shoves his weight on it, no give as Starlove pivots to brace against the maneuver grabbing Kren's legs in the act. Kren resets to grab her shoulders and shove her back, her new position too weak to brace this time. Starlove crashes to the ground and Kren steps on her face getting a stance before stomping his foot down on her face over and over. With each stomp Starlove grows less reactive until finally she drops her hands and gives up, looking up in a daze to see a monstrous figure in the sky.

  "You..." Starlove spits from a fat lip and an ugly purple face.

  "I could save you from him" A voice in her head says.

  "Evil... fus..." The stars rapidly multiplying as Starlove dazes off.

  "Lady Starlove." Kren slams his foot in her side. "You betrayed your faith in April. You pitiful and un enchanting excuse for a queen." He grabs her spear and removes the tip using some mechanism designed in the staff. A small dagger with a regal look to its handle but a gnarly jagged blade.

  "What do you want from me?" Starlove yells through a pool of spit and blood in her mouth as she spews it out on the floor next to her.

  "I have what I want." Kren says with a disgusted frown as he looks at the blade before placing it as Starlove's neck.

  "Give me one moon's worth of time to interrogate you, in return you will be spared this." The voice in the warmonger's head says with an ophidian tone.

  "Yeah. Let's do it." She smiles and then, like a popped bubble, disappears.

  Kren sits back with little awe, upset to have lost his prey. He quickly recovers, stands and moves to the artifact. Without hesitation he begins slamming the dagger in it repeatedly, chipping it into chunks until its shattered on the ground. It takes a few minutes but when he's done, winded, there is a pause. The silence is fulfilled by a deep growling laugh from the vast space above.

  ---