Asherons Call: December Teaser- The Hall of the Tusker King

As Aerbax inspected his subject, a puppet floated into view at the end of a dark corridor that oozed a heavy red film. These new facilities were the latest of the Virindi's attempts to understand the psyche of the Isparians. And while the rooms had been constructed to mimic the interior of Isparian homes, Aerbax felt there was a flaw in the process. Even though the weak minds of the Isparians often colored their thoughts in hazy red mires, experimentation had shown that they were capable of observing visible light in ways far beyond the dulling red that enveloped their thoughts. When he had brought these observations to the attention of the Quiddity, it had thought these ideas far too irrational and turned them aside, and Aerbax accepted their will in this matter.

Even though his peers had spared Aerbax, thinking that he could be reformed, they remained ever watchful for signs of contamination, signs of individuality. He was familiar with what those deemed mentally flawed had become, rendered into mindless puppets. Yet, although almost infinitely powerful, the Quiddity still couldn't comprehend the simplest concepts Aerbax had learned from the physical world-concepts such as deception. The simple acceptance of the Quiddity's will in this matter had been all that was required to return him to its trust, and he now found himself back in Dereth.

Upon his return to Dereth, he had seen that some of his former comrades, such as Levistras, were still clinging to their concept of a new Singularity. At one time he had aided them in their quest, but now he gave no thought to their plight. He was no fool; long before Levistras had even achieved his supposed understanding of "self," Aerbax had been self-aware, and he could now see that resisting the will of the Quiddity in this way was doomed to failure. No, for now he would use this art of subterfuge he had mastered. He would not be dragged down with those rebels when their attempt failed.

He thought all this in the moment it took him to form the scalpel he would need for the experiment. He looked down at the tusker, and the large orange beast trembled in fear as much as rage. Aerbax examined the edge of the scalpel to ensure it was sharp enough, then examined the sloped brow of the creature. He focused his attention on the area where the hair had been stripped clear.

He looked into the creature's eyes and forced the mouth on his mask to curl upwards at the ends. He had seen the Isparians change the skin on their faces like this, and it seemed appropriate now. He sensed the emotion the Isparians called fear in the creature, so he tried to soothe it with the words he had heard the Isparians use on their offspring.

"Worry not my son, the pain will last only as long as the process takes."

With the scalpel, he cut effortlessly through the scalp and skull of the tusker, fusing tissue closed and leaving dollops of purple congealed blood along the incision. The tusker wailed and pulled against the restraints, but Aerbax continued. Finally a section of the tusker's skull fell onto the slab with an audible thump. The puppet watched as Aerbax shook his head and mumbled, "This will take more effort than expected."

Oolutanga grunted and stirred, the rough assemblage of bamboo he called a throne creaking under his weight. His dream had come again, but stronger and in more detail than he had yet experienced. As he sat pondering it, a guard, awakened by the creaking of the throne, made its way over to him,. The guard grunted inquisitively, asking if everything was all right. Oolutanga began grunting a reassurance to the guard that everything was fine, then cut himself short. He suddenly realized what the dreams meant-the Masked God had returned.