3 The Septitans (2)

At a first glance, the hall looked no bigger than the cave I was confined in.

When its doors clapped open, a darkness enveloped the room and deprived us of visibility. Anything within the hall was either barely dim or invisible for the first few seconds.

I was pushed inside regardless of the darkness.

With each step forward, the veil covering the walls, floor and ceiling diminished alongside us.

I could perceive only what was in a radius of a few feet around me.

Beneath me, the marble floor expanded in a chequered design. The tiles were a duo of obsidian and jade. In the polished jaded squares, I was even able to see my own reflection.

What tatters was I reduced to…

(Mhm! Moving on…)

A few columns brightened when in view. They reached the ceiling easily and were as wide as a pine tree's trunk. Coiling along their crimson paint were different depictions of golden snakes…or rather something akin to snakes…

The ceiling however, or at least what was visible of it since the dimness did not reach it properly, was a piece of mosaic by itself.

I could only tell what it represented until I walked through the whole length of the hall.

It was some kind of beast. On its fours. A multitude of horns or antlers. A terrible fanged maw. Glistening reptile yellow eyes. A serpentine tail…

It had features that were unlike anything I had ever seen in my previous life. The kind of beast that was along the lines of mythical creatures depicted in folklore.

We reached the end of the hall.

Similar to the mosaic, it was until we went across the entirety of the room that we were able to see that other people were waiting.

There were four present. Two torturers and two kings. Same sequence.

"Ah. Looks like some made it before us!" one of the twins sighed, feeling it was beaten to a race.

"Indeed!" the other one continued, its body's expression torn between disappointment and normalness.

We aligned ourselves with the current presences and stood in wait as well.

"No need to feel bad my dears. My cave is closest, so naturally I would arrive first."

One of the two torturers already present in the room, turned around and met with us.

Its voice was that of an elderly person. Like Tiff, it maintained a victim's face.

In terms of attire, it was very clear that this torturer was old fashioned and was probably one of the seniors of this profession.

"Elder!" Tiff gave salute, its hands crossed, a closed fist connected to a flat opened palm.

All the other torturers did the same.

(My assumptions were correct once more, hehe…)

They did not say its name for now. So I am just going to assume it is Elder.

But a name I did know was the man sitting on the floor beside it. Another king!

Bareyad Izaresius!

Second of the succession. Izaresius had the most prominent rule of the seven and the only one to have died an elderly man on his death bed.

Retaining the same appearance as the one he had before he died, he combed long hair like mine though entirely white of coloration. His eyes were destroyed, meaning he must have lived most of his life blind.

A beard entangled down from his square chin, the same length as his height was. His lips were parched and went along well with the wrinkles of his face and the loose flesh of his neck. He was as skinny as anyone could be.

More so, he was not bound by anything and walked freely when ordered to…I don't think any chains would be needed to restrain his slick limbs anyway.

"Geden. Please keep quiet until Demonic God arrives. Do not entertain these youngsters."

(Elder's name is Geden then. Mystery solved!)

By the way this one just spoke to another elder, I surmised it to be of a higher status.

During the 34599 years I was tortured, a single name came to Tiff's tongue whenever it came back furious to my cave.

Crass!

Tiff described Crass as an arrogant old fart whom always loved to criticize the lower ranks.

(Tiff's words not mine!)

But to Tiff, what fuelled the geezer's ego further than anything was the fact that it was entrusted to the torture of another king.

And not just any king at that. The first of the succession. The prime titan.

He was there, just beside Crass.

A tall and slender man. He bore short brownish hair accompanied by deep burnish eyes lost in thoughts.

It was rumoured that if you gazed long enough into them, you would fall under his spell.

After all, the rumoured king was said to have never killed, never stolen, never hurt anybody or ever done anything considered as a crime in his life.

Personally, I thought it was farfetched since he died before my time. But now, looking at him, I could definitely say that he could have ruled the world with his gaze alone.

That man's name…

He was known as Grivelkoriah! The man with the spell binding eyes!

He had no family name. Not one that was ever known. And his first name? It was given to him by the people.

All our names were as a matter of fact.

My name, Akilaba, is a rough compound word which means, the wise and ruthless child.

(We'll get to that later…)

Hunimo, was the word we used to describe the hardworking plebeians. And he was definitely that.

Kiobi and Rubis. The twins had names that complemented each other during their shared rule. The former described a sword while the latter described a whip. One ruled by the sword while the other ruled by the whip.

Izaresius! Simply, the old ruler.

Grivelkoriah. The man with the spell binding eyes.

One remained. One I wished never to meet again in another life.

The last one was in fact not a king by gender but rather by title alone. She was as slippery as a snake could be. Deadly not only by the sting of her poisonous blades but also by the sharpness of her tongue.

Her words twisted the minds. She targeted men most often and gave them a slow and torturous death when they least expected it. The woman found pleasure beyond anything while doing it.

That king, or queen, was given the moniker, Azra!

The hall's doors opened wide once more. In the darkness, we could hear dual footsteps approaching.

It must be her! The last of the Septitanic Kings.

The footsteps continued to echo until light cleared a few features of her face.

As anyone could have guessed it, words alone were not enough to charm another person. What aroused them more was the tender beauty that she harboured.

Anyone could fall for her blue lapis eyes and silky sombre hair. Flawless skin. No less, thinking that she has spent far more time in Kazalkar than half of us, it was a wonder how there were no blemishes spoiling her perfect figure.

Leikald Azra! Called a goddess!

"I have never seen Azra walk with such inelegance before…" Hunimo muttered under his breath. "Did the torture render her such? Even the goddess?"

Azra dragged her feet along the ground, scraping above the polished marble. Her head was prostrated, her hair sweeping the floor before her. She was hunched and loosened her limbs as if stripped of their control.

Truly…not the figure anyone expected the graceful queen to wield. It was as if someone had broken her spirit or something.

Of course, I knew the reason…and that was why I never wanted to meet with her again.

She raised her head slowly. Her gaze faltered and gave her an allure that a dead person inhibited. When she saw me, standing among the gathered, her eyes flared with several emotions.

"You…" her hissing voice expressed. "You backstabbing…you bastard…you little…" she struggled to find the proper insult. Her hand shivered, her body quaked.

At the same time, she hastened her walk and headed straight towards me.

"How could you? To me?" Azra teared up, her emotions flickering and jumping from rage to woe. "Me! The one you called your only love. How could you do this to me?"

I was immobile. The mood in the room took a strange turn. All eyes and ears were drawn to the conversation right now and nothing could be done to prevent it.

To hear the goddess say such things…many would wonder who the real snake was. In this specific case, it would be me.

"I gave you my love…but you" her face dripped with fluids, ranging from tears, sweat and snot, "but you betrayed me. Treated me like any common man I've ever killed…"

I was still unresponsive.

Back then, what I did to her…I did not regret it the least. But now, it haunted my dreams each day. I could still not reciprocate her feelings, but I was regretful nonetheless. Regretful of each life I have taken. Even hers.

"Why" she wiped herself with her sleeves, "why did you kill me that night?"

"Azra. I—"

"I trusted you…"

Azra was finally a step away from me. She charged with a final effort, her eyes dead set and striving towards killing.

At the last moment, she was pulled back violently by her chains.

The torturer whom had walked inside with her, restrained her cautiously.

"Pardon this mistake, Master Crass!" it said apologetically. "It will not happen again."

"No need, Asmilla! Make sure she doesn't act like this in front of Demonic God too!"

Asmilla had a feminine voice to her. She was faceless like her comrades too, but no less vicious in the way she handled Azra.

The hall, although silent after what transpired, was quite nervous. To discover that the queen was killed by none other than I, devoured and troubled their thoughts. Or at least those that were alive back then.

Other than Grivelkoriah and Izaresius, all other kings were alive and well during the reign of queen Azra.

It was always believed she had been assassinated by some unknown force sent by a neighbouring country. But now, everything was made clear.

"Oh boy!" Izaresius chuckled with his failing voice. "How love can make you blind. To be called Akilaba…I cannot wonder what he's done in his life."

Once more, the atmosphere had gone taciturn. We were waiting for Demonic God after all.

Azra was still sobbing in her corner, the rest of the kings mumbled about me, while the torturers were chatting between themselves.

The Dastans were looking quite amused. They even threw me a few nods of admiration when I glanced their way.

Eventually, the first king broke the silence again.

"Septitanic King…I wonder what that means..."

"Indeed" the old king replied. "Do you youngsters know?"

I, of course, as the last successor, knew what it meant.

A wordplay created by drunken scholars to define us in the history books.

Sept, meaning seven and titanic meaning great power. All together, we were named the seven great kings of old.

Or, in fancy terms, the Septitanic Kings.

But now was not the time or place to explain it to them.

For Demonic God had arrived.

He was here at last!