Fated to the Alien Chieftain (The Klendathian Cycle #3)

13. Krogoth

Chapter 13

Krogoth

Nomination

P anting heavily, I marvel looking at my beautiful human female, my Pebbles, my Mortakin-Kis. My heart pounds in my chest with euphoria, as I wonder what good deed convinced the Gods to bless me so generously. I gently brush a lock of her glossy brown hair from her eyes, kissing her on the forehead. She smiles up at me through tired eyes with a light sheen of sweat glistening on her soft, supple skin. How can skin be this soft?

Pebbles worked so hard, taking all of me inside of her. As she always has, overcoming her fear of staying with me on Klendathor. Then fighting to complete the Proving to free me, facing almost certain death, and now together we slew the Machine God and completed the Mortakin-Tok, defying all the odds and the doubters who believed it could not be done.

All because of her, my sexy, tenacious, wondrous female. Pride overwhelms me as I squeeze her in close, enjoying her softness against my body, as her intoxicating scent fills my senses. My cock, still slick and tingling pleasantly, begins to stiffen, greedily hungering for more of my sweet Pebbles. Can I keep control again? I barely cling onto sanity and keep the Rush at bay.

Pebbles gasp of shock interrupts my thoughts. “Look, Krogoth.” Tearing my eyes from my love, I notice the cosmos outside our bubble is turning completely black. The stunning stars, nebulas and planets, all gone. The obsidian void grows larger and larger, encroaching into our sacred space, it rushes towards us, swallowing all.

Everything turns dark, filling me with a sense of falling.

As I blink open my eyes, we’re standing back in the Grand Temple of Lanaisor beside the magnificent statues of Machsin and Dagdorix. Pebbles breaks our embrace, taking in our surroundings with a look of wonder on her face. I pat my chest, feeling the incredible hardness of my arcweave armor once again. “Was any of it real?” I ask.

“The ache in my lady bits tells me it definitely was,” Pebble says, gesturing to her groin with her face scrunched up.

I laugh at her playful expression before speaking. “And when we faced the Machine God? Was that an actual event? The Gods were once mortals like us?”

Pebbles looks down at her feet as she kicks some broken bits of rotten wood. “I have no idea, Krogoth. I can only guess.”

The potential ramifications of the vision threaten to sour my jubilant mood. Until I force the thoughts from my mind for now.

“Do you feel any different?” Pebbles asks, her pretty hazel eyes studying me surprisingly intensely.

Do I? I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. At the edge of my awareness, I can feel something. “Yes...” The knowledge that she is near and safe. “I can feel you. Like in the vision, that’s astonishing!” I exclaim excitedly as I open my eyes.

Pebbles smiles before reaching for her necklace. “What about... anything else?” She asks, slowly, her tone uncertain.

“Anything else?” I ask, scratching the back of my head in confusion.

She gives a short laugh. “I don’t know. Something like moving objects with your mind.” She winces before continuing, “Creating vortexes. You know that type of thing.”

“Creating vortexes like the God Dagdorix himself!” Laughter erupts from me. “Perhaps I can unleash lightning bolts from my ass too! Ah, very good Pebbles.” I straighten, only to find her standing, arms folded, unamused. “Oh, you are being sincere?”

“I knew you would laugh,” Pebbles says. Reaching down, she picks up a piece of broken stone. “It sounds crazy, I know, but please try.”

I nod before staring intensely at the stone in her hand. Move, jump, float! Projecting my will and desire into the gray mossy lump, I try to recall how it felt in the vision using Dagdorix powers. During the vision, it felt as easy as a reflex, a mere thought, and the universe twisted and obeyed. However, in this reality, the universe has other ideas.

“Get really angry, Krogoth.” Pebbles encourages me. “Imagine the stone has smacked my ass and is the love child of Zyraxis and Tensin Naxsus.” She tries to suppress a giggle. My Pebbles, has a strange mind. Still, I feel my Rush rising as my eyes mist purple lightly, stoking anger on command is a trivial thing for any seasoned warrior.

The tension in my muscles rises as the veins in my neck pop out. I project commands into the stone with every fiber of my being. Move, shake, do something you voiding piece of borack dung! Then, to my amazement, the piece of broken masonry begins to shake and wobble. “Gods! It’s working! Look!” I shout.

Pebbles erupts into laughter. It’s then I notice she’s sneakily vibrating her hand, causing the stone to move about. A mixture of disappointment and annoyance flashes within me. “You little vipertail!” I exclaim, before I join her with hysterical laughter.

“You should have seen your face!” Pebbles doubles over, trying to breathe between fits of laughter. “Thought your eyes were going to pop out of your head.” We both continue to laugh, as I admit, she got me good. We both finally dry our eyes, having laughed ourselves out. “Told you I would get you back,” she says slyly.

“You did, but it’s my turn next,” I promise her, with a smile.

“I was being serious at the beginning,” Pebbles says before tossing the stone onto the dusty ground. “Machsin’s vision has changed me, given me some of her power, I think.”

“Come now Pebbles, two jests back-to-back?” I ask, scrutinizing her face for the truth.

“Swear it on my parents, Krogoth. When we made love, I could feel what you felt,” she says, her eyes loaded with intensity.

A frown creases my brow. “It must be the bond. The Mortakin-Tok might have increased its potency.”

Pebbles shakes her head. “I felt the bond in the vision. It was like a desperate pull when you were in pain. This feels more like Machsin’s gift.”

She must be mistaken. “You can read minds? What number am I thinking of?” I ask. Borack’s milk, borack’s milk, borack’s milk.

“I don’t know...” Pebbles shrugs. “Forty-seven?” she answers.

I chuckle. “No, the answer is Borack’s milk.”

Pebbles tuts “That’s not a number, you big goofball.” She playfully taps me on the shoulder.

What’s a Goofball? “Goddess Machsin would have guessed correctly,” I say, shaking my head mockingly.

Pebbles throws up her hands in exasperation. “I’m not claiming to be the all-knowing, all powerful Godly Machsin, just that I can sense feelings from others.”

“Others or just me?” I ask, staring at her intently, still unsure if she’s being serious.

Pebbles pauses for a moment. “That’s a good question,” she says, with her eyes cast downward.

I take her tiny hand and lead us through the dusty, abandoned temple. “We can settle this when we tell the others the good news.”

A few days have passed since Pebbles and I have completed the Mortakin-Tok. I notified the Council of Elders not long after departing the temple of Lanaisor and everyone else we happened upon once we got back to Draxru. They all congratulated us, although for some I could see the doubt in their faces, having no physical proof there was no way to turn their doubting eyes. But in truth, I don’t care. I have my Pebbles and we know what we achieved and what we went through, and none will dare question me.

“This place looks even bigger, without all the people in it,” Pebbles says as she glances about my empty Chieftain’s Hall. Her hall now, too.

The faint smell of alcohol and sweat still lingers in the air, the residue of the raucous celebrations from Pebbles Proving. I straighten a few of the stump-like chairs, moving them to rest beneath the enormous wooden table that dominates the room. Running my hand over the hardwood that displays intricate patterns and grains, I wonder how it has remained so unblemished after resting here for tens of thousands of years.

“Wow, look at this one!” Pebbles exclaims, as she runs over to one of the larger trophies hung up on the curved wooden walls. “Its jaw is bigger than you, Krogoth.” She runs her tiny hand over the circular mouth, examining the rows of menacing looking serrated teeth. Until she flinches back, sucking her finger. “Ouch! They’re bloody sharp.”

“Careful,” I place a hand on the small of her back, feeling her delicate purple flowing dress beneath my fingers. “Let me see” I take her soft hand and see the small spot of strange red blood on the end of a finger. “We might need the healing pods for this one,” I jest before kissing the blood away, enjoying her delicious taste.

“You should give me first aid more often. Would have made the Proving a lot more enjoyable,” Pebbles says. We both chuckle before she turns her attention back to the gaping maw of teeth. “What was this thing?”

“That is a...” I rub my chin, trying to recall it. “Sirenaether, native to Nereidica, a water planet. If I’m remembering the legend correctly, many thousands of years ago, the Nereidicans, knowing our prowess as expert hunters, commissioned my clan to hunt and kill this creature that had grown so large and aggressive it would attack their underwater settlements, killing many.”

“Then what happened?” Pebbles jumps in immediately.

I smile, enjoying how inquisitive she is before continuing. “Twenty of our best hunters went with the Nereidicans across the galaxies, which were unfamiliar to my people back then. Once they got to the planet, they set bait, luring the monster. But our hunters were unprepared to fight something so deadly underwater. Half their number died bravely and with honor, their sacrifice allowed the others the opportunity to strike with the fury of the Gods and slay the beast.”

“It killed ten hunters?” Pebbles asks in disbelief.

“So the story goes.” Was it my father who told me this one? I nod. “The interesting thing is, only four of the hunters came back. The others stayed on Nereidica, treated like heroes, almost worshiped and enamored with the planet.” I let out a breath. “Comfort has defeated more warriors than their fiercest opponents.”

“Six of them stayed? Any females? What if their descendants are still there?” Pebbles inquires in a flurry of questions.

I smile, once again smitten by my Pebbles constantly questioning mind. “They could be, but it was thousands of years ago with no contact from them.”

“They’ve probably conquered the entire planet by now,” Pebbles says with a chuckle.

“We aren’t conquerors, merely skilled hunters. Until the Scythians twisted us,” I say, a little more heatedly than I intended.

Pebbles has a blank expression on her face, with shifting eyes, as if she believes the complete opposite. I have an uphill battle if even my Mortakin-Kis think’s us ruthless killers.

“Speaking of honor trophies, I have something you might find pleasing,” I say, taking Pebbles by the hand and walking through the massive hollowed tree.

“Oh? Exciting,” Pebbles says, clutching my arm tighter. Her warmth and softness pressing in on me stirs my desire, but at least for now, I must remain focused. She glances around at the walls before speaking. “There’re so many trophies. Do you know the stories of all of them?”

“Most of them.” Not enough. “I fear the time when this hall falls to ruin like the ancient Temple of Lanaisor. With only the twisted young who do not value our traditions and culture as its keeper. Then no one will remember a single tale.” I will free my people before that happens!

“That’s sad,” Pebbles says, her head downcast. “What about adding a description for each, like in museums on Earth?” She offers thoughtfully.

I consider for a moment. “It’s always been an oral tradition. Warriors gather around and socialize and regale each other with brave tales, and older wise ones could recite thousands of stories from memory without a single error.” I glance around at the trophies, imagining the warriors speaking proudly beneath them. “Our legends told by us for us, not for the amusement and critique of others,” I finish, to see disappointment flash on her face.

Maybe keeping a record would do no harm and if it makes her happy. “A record would be good. Should we fail to break away from the Scythians,” I say, hoping to see her beautiful smile.

“I can do it,” Pebbles declares. “That would be really fun,” she says with a smile that warms my soul. “I could interview you and find others to fill in the gaps, creating a big catalog with images. So it will always be remembered.”

I nod down at her approvingly. “There’s none better than you at asking questions,” I say, stopping near the end of the hall. “This should be your first entry.” I gesture towards the newest addition to the wall of trophies. A snarling white furred beast, its head covered in a matrix of scars, one gleaming red eye glows in the dim light like a hate filled ruby.

“Holy crap!” Pebbles shouts, examining the huge trophy that’s almost as tall as her and twice as wide. “Xyronath? Look at the size of it. How the hell did I manage to kill this thing?” She asks, examining both sides of the beast with a look of disbelief.

“With skill and courage, my sweet Pebbles.” Such a fine trophy. Looking at it fills me with a profound sense of pride. “Xyronath only conveys half the story. The first non Klendathian to complete the Proving. And while hunted by three other Prospects,” I snort before continuing, “I should have mounted their heads on the wall, but it seems dishonorable.” Although I wouldn’t put it past some of the other clans.

Pebbles holds her stomach and makes a fake retching expression. “Could you imagine three heads hanging on the wall? I’d hurl every time I came in here.” Doubly glad I didn’t, now.

She turns to me, her pretty hazel eyes sparklingly “No ones ever mounted a head for me before,” she titters. Is she mocking me? It’s hard to tell with her crafty human ways. “Thank you so much.” She rushes in and gives me a hug. She smells like sweet flowers today and is just as soft.

“It represents your story, your legend. You provide the context and bring it to life in the retelling of it.” I rub her shoulders and enjoy the feeling of her sheen brown hair through my fingers. “You’ve brought much respect and honor to yourself and our clan.” I kiss the top of her head. “I’m so proud of you, my Mortakin-Kis.”

Pebbles pulls away, her eyes moist. “Stop, you’re going to make me cry,” she laughs, wiping her face with the back of her hand.

I take Pebbles by the hand and continue further towards the back of the hall. “There’s something else I want to show you.”

“More?” Pebbles asks, surprised, “Uh oh,” her eyes narrow towards the raised wooden platform. “Is that another throne up there?” She frowns “You didn’t, Krogoth?”

Her reaction causes me to smile. “I did,” I declare, amused. Such modesty she has, even though it’s her right. “Remember, I promised after the Mortakin-Tok, you would be named Chieftainess and the Ancient Chair returned to its rightful place. Now is that time. You are Chieftainess Rocks of Clan Draxxus,” I finish saying as we stand before the two primeval seats that radiate history and responsibility.

Pebbles shakes her head in disbelief as she studies her new Chieftainess chair. Her hesitation gives me a pang of sadness. I had hoped the prospect would excite her. I can almost see her mind puzzling out her thoughts and feelings as she rubs her hands over the ancient wood. The chair is smaller and narrower than the male version, constructed from tangling hard wood roots that coalesce into six curved legs and winged back with threads jutting out.

Pebbles turns to me, her face full of concern. “Krogoth, I don’t know the first thing about being a Chieftainess. I’m not like you, some confident war leader, telling everyone what to do.” She pauses before continuing, “I don’t think I can do it.”

My initial pang of sadness metastasizes into despair. “Yet last time we stood here, you spoke like a Chieftainess full of grace and cunning and we just passed your glorious trophy proving your honor and courage. Also, during the Mortakin-Tok, you lead a group as the Goddess Machsin herself against the Machine God,” I say, unable to hide my shock and disappointment.

She turns away, looking at the floor, unable to meet my eyes. “That was different... I had no choice then, and it was only temporary.” She reaches for her Elerium necklace, rubbing it vigorously. “Not like this, where I’m responsible for all these people. I have no training, qualifications, experience, or anything. What if I make the wrong decision?”

My mind is stunned with utter disbelief at her words. How can she doubt herself even now? It’s unbelievable! “Is it the effort you fear?” I say, trying to understand her position. “Because I promise it will not require much of your time.”

“Of course not!” Pebbles says fiercely. “I’m not afraid of work.”

Then why? “Is this an Earthling tradition? You’ve all been raised to doubt yourselves and cannot act on your own behavior, rising to your potential?” I say, struggling to keep the heat from my voice. “A world where a female full of talent and life is forgotten, her potential wasted?”

Pebbles stares off into the distance as she continues to clutch her necklace in silence.

I take a deep breath, feeling my initial shock and disappointment dissipate somewhat. “You would make a brilliant Chieftainess, honoring our people. No one trains for the role you just become it, like an arrohawk learning to fly. Trust yourself, Pebbles because I trust you. We all trust you,” I say softly, meaning every word.

An awkward silence hangs over the enormous hall. Pebbles remains unstirred, seemingly my passionate words haven’t moved her. My heart sinks and despair fills my chest. What does this mean for us? Never has a Mortakin-Kis of a Chieftain, not also been Chieftainess. It will bring much shame and speculation.

Defeated, I slump into my Chieftain’s chair, with my head in my hands, not for the first time rueing my inability to persuade with words as convincingly as my fighting ability. Yet, another reason for Pebbles to be Chieftainess!

I inhale loudly, finally resigned to let the issue go. “Very well, Pebbles.” Each word feels like a struggle. “I will bear the shame of this. Tomorrow I’ll have your seat removed. Some may ask you questions and prod, but over time, it should become accepted.”

I stare at my hands dejectedly, hearing the tiny patter of Pebbles’ footsteps approaching. She stands before me, still much smaller despite me being seated. Her face is full of pity and worry as she looks up into my eyes. “I can feel your sorrow and disappointment Krogoth, it’s so strong I couldn’t live with myself knowing I was causing you such terrible pain,” she whispers.

“Pain is fleeting. I will endure it,” I promise her, my eyes as hard as arcweave.

Pebbles remains unfazed. “You won’t have to.” She places her hands on mine, smiling. “I will be your Chieftainess, if you’ll still have me?” she asks sweetly.

My Chieftainess.