Mistapak
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The Exalt - Act 4: Fallen Heaven - Chapter 619: Carcoatl, The Snail Primaere
🕑 Added 2024-01-19 03:12:58 +0000 UTCThe more the voice spoke, the heavier it weighed on his ears and head. It had proclaimed itself a Primaere. Fear failed to stir in him, only a slight irritation at how weak he was compared to the masters of the world. Gritting his teeth, Demon drove his sword into the rock and slowly pulled himself up. Struggling against the presence of a Primaere was akin to lifting the continent itself. His wounds opened and bled, his bones groaned and creaked, and his body trembled. But he refused to kneel. With a forceful shout, he rose to his feet, his labored breaths playing a tune in his helmet and exiting as white clouds. He would not be forced anymore.
"To stand against me…." The Primaere seemed stunned, the many voices whispering out a gasp near the end. They all halted, falling silent. Before Demon, the air distorted and ruptured from spatial distortions, creating a doorway of chaotic streams of space.
Narrowing his gaze, Demon saw nothing until a foot extended to the outside world, and slowly, at a snail's pace, the Primaere revealed his true form. An old man stood before him, a very strange figure. He hunched forward so much that his head lowered to the same height as his waist. A rather large lump covered his entire back, covered by the ragged black robe. Demon had seen such figures before in the outcast and disfigured but never expected a Primaere, one the most powerful figures, to have that appearance. Most of the face hid under the black hood. The lips were black, and the skin around them was a mess of wrinkles and burn scars.
"I bow." The old Primaere showed his pale hands, gnarled and disfigured like the branches of a dying tree, and held his chest. His raspy voice escaped from his blackened, withered lips, sounding like the dying wheezes of an aging man. A Primaere had no reason to bow to him, an act that alarmed Demon for a moment. "I, Carcoatl, bow to the Ancient of Fire."
"You are a beast, but not one of the firstborns." Ignyres created a visage of himself, standing by Demon's side, his sudden appearance earning a lower bow from Carcoatl. "A simple snail somehow crawled upward. I can scarcely believe my three eyes." He cackled, spewing embers. "How on Talos did you manage to climb this far." A few snail species of Exalt Beasts existed, and none had shown the potential to be greater, all passed off as a lower race of beasts. Curious, Demon wondered how this snail had survived so long to reach the apex.
"Your praise…is worth more than all the treasures I have seen." Carcoatl sounded liberated, his lips curling into a smile. "I may not be of the firstborns, but my blood still owes allegiance to you, so I have come to offer my services. I have been watching from the shadows and know what your host requires."
"You know me?" His lack of respect didn't seem to anger the Primaere.
"I have listened from afar. My ears reach all corners, all hidden places of my lands. No one can speak here that I do not know. That is why your enemy, the New Dawn, always failed to entrench themselves here." Carcoatl pointed to a few tiny snails resting on his shoulder. "My family and I are one." He wheezed out gargled laughter as if choking on the mucus in his throat. "The Ancient of Fire had sensed me long ago but never invited me until now."
"So you know everything. Who I am, what I'm doing, what I've done." He pulled out his sword and sheathed it. All of his secrets had been exposed. He could not even kill the one who knew it all. Though he kept his suspicions about the snail's true purpose, the bow of respect toward Ignyres wasn't a lie, meaning he was safe for now. In a way, it worked out more perfectly than he could have hoped for. Rather than picking out which King Exalts to place his banner under, following a Primaere that held loyalty to Ignyres offered far more.
"You are a piece of the man, Oscar Terr, an ego that gained its own life. I heard of him from the Phoenix. Imagine my surprise when I investigated you and learned of the hero who fought in the war on Farsky Continent. You, or rather, the man slumbering inside you, have achieved wonders." Carcoatl clicked his fingers on the smooth stone and gathered small pieces of algae, feeding his snails. "But now, your enemies are many, and you require a strong foundation. I can give you that."
"Why? Other than Ignyres resting in me, other than the words of Metures and Solara, why? What other reason do you have?" While he considered the consequences of asking, he wished to know if any worth existed in him other than the graces of the Ancients. He believed them to be a curse, not a blessing, that directed his life down a path he never wanted to walk.
As moonlight pierced the veil of the clouds and poured out over the precipice, showering them in its luminous light, Demon finally saw through the black hood, beholding a disfigured scar that replaced where the eyes should be. He felt a hint of warmth emanating from the gaze beneath the broken flesh. Carcoatl vanished and reappeared, jabbing a finger gently on his chest. He couldn't move away and had no desire to. If the Primaere wanted him dead, he would have died already.
"Broken. His mind is lost to the deep fathoms of despair." Carcoatl sighed, his large lump shaking to his nodding head. "It is because of him that I help you. Call it a gamble, but a man who has defied death many times, encountering the impossible, is a man worth it. Forget the Ancients. I believe in the man named Oscar Terr."
"You hold trust in a broken man. He's gone. Still, it's not that bad of a reason." Demon crossed his arms and sat down, willing to talk further. "What do you see in him?"
"I have viewed his life. By all means, he should have broken down long ago. He should never have been the hero he is now. Yet, here he stands. You believe you are separate, but you are whole. The fact you remain means deep down, he still fights. I believe in that indomitable will, his love for his companions, and the zeal with which he fights. Old I am. My vision has never been clearer." Carcoatl extended his ancient, wrinkled hand. "Countless futures await, and I have seen the narrow path I must cross for my people. I must start here."
"You can see the Threads? Incredible. Only a Trigem Primaere can begin to glance at them. How surprising." Ignyres applauded, flames flaring from each clap. "Accept him, boy. He is one of the strongest Primaeres. He will be a powerful backer."
"What conditions will you offer?" Demon retained his senses and carried on to the negotiations.
"I will grant you lands on my continent. My home has a natural wellspring of metal, fire, and earth Eins. You may use them as you wish and receive hefty amounts of elemental elixirs to supplement your growth. You will no longer need to purchase any of them. As for your companions of other elements, I will grant them the same." Carcoatl's proposal surpassed his expectations. Wary of the price to pay, Demon remained silent. Carcoatl smirked a toothless smile. "I only request that if you ever become a Primaere, take care of my lands, family, and people."
"That's highly unfavorable to you. What if I never become one?"
"Who knows? The future is so exciting when the impossible is part of the possibilities. None ever thought a snail could ascend, but I did. In our world, nothing is set in stone. We can only believe in the hopes of our chances." Carcoatl chuckled, joined by Ignyres's cackles, their laughter ringing in the silent night. The two elders seemed to have formed a quick bond.
"I will rampage across the lands. I will slaughter anyone I can. I may bring hateful eyes on me. Are you certain?" Demon waited for Carcoatl's response, the old snail wheezing to recover from his burst of laughter.
"No matter what anyone says, I will bear the responsibility for your actions. Go wild. I will be your protector." Carcoatl crossed his hands, palm on the back of the other. "That is my pledge."
That promise cast aside all doubts and wariness in his mind. The promise of a Primaere had a certain weight to it that brought forth truth and a bond of iron. Rising to his feet, Demon shook Carcoatl's hand. The future was uncertain, but he knew this path was the safest, all for Oscar's survival. Upon reaching an agreement, Demon gazed out onto the distant Aeon peak and the stretch of curved land. "I like the Lunate Continent. We have a good setup here."
"You can still collect your tributes. I have an idea for how you can utilize it more efficiently and for better profit." Carcoatl snickered, feeding more algae to his snails. "Create a sect here. Gain power, recruit disciples, and create an army to make your war. Become the true master of this land."
"We can discuss that later. For now, I have to find someone. You will protect my people, right?" One hope remained for Oscar's return: Avril, the sole person who could retrieve him from the darkness. For years, he left her to wait in Convecia City, but the time for hiding had ended. With Carcoatl's protection, she would be safe from all harm. 'I have done all I can for the future, for our survival. Oscar should take the reins now and live in the present.'
Comments
Jeremy
Hope it’s getting a little easier to write as the story progresses, it’s getting better and better with every chapter
You always manage to progress the story in the best way, the characters and the deepening of the understanding of Demon is like so much icing on the cake that makes a delicious story. Love it Mistagoat
Felipe Correia
great chapter
Buck
Keep fighting the good fight.
Buck
I have said it before and will say it again: write to please yourself and if anyone else likes what you write then they owe you money!
Buck
Sadly, self-doubt and the inability to handle unfair criticism from the haters out there defeats many would-be authors before they progress far. It is one reason so many stories on Royal Road slip into permanent hiatus.
Buck
That is the natural course of writing extended stories which most serial novels become. Struggling to develop new story arcs that are at least somewhat unique and keeping them balanced in regard to power levels is a tight-walk that all successful authors must continually navigate. Successfully doing so separates successful authors from unsuccessful ones. You have done well so far, in my opinion.
Mistapak
Thanks! I feel like I've been in a funk. Been really hard to put the words on the pages.
Buck
I am really enjoying the story so far, Mistapak.
Buck
Time to find Avril?
