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

15. Krogoth

Chapter 15

Krogoth

Teacher

P ebbles looks unbelievably beautiful. It fills me with longing and a fierce pride, the dark purple dress that highlights her voluptuous curves clings to her body in all the right places. Now her thick white fur cloak draped over her supple shoulders adds to her regalness and grace. My stunning Mortakin-Kis, the picturesque Chieftainess.

Such a wonder Clan Draxxus will have a Chieftainess again, not since the ‘Great Shame’ two hundred years ago has this happened. Other Clans may come for an audience just out of curiosity, to look upon her and no doubt assess the validity of our bond. That will be my chance to convince them to seek their own mates and start rebuilding our lost civilization.

The thought brings a smile to my face. I’ve come so far, we’ve come so far , my little human and me. Gods how I love her, the purest blessing from the divine. “Korgy, can you help me move this?” Pebbles asks, jolting me from my thoughts.

Pebbles is pushing with all her might against the Chieftainess chair, her face flushed with effort, appearing ridiculously adorable. “This thing weighs a ton!” she exclaims, straining. I smile at her incessant need to move furniture, recalling how she redecorated my battlebarge and home. I ease her burden, adding my strength to the chair as it slides across noisily until it knocks against my chair.

“Much better,” Pebbles declares, as she examines the two seats of authority that now rest side by side. “They seemed so far apart before.” She pauses, catching her breath.

“I like it,” I state, taking a step back, picturing what the audience’s view will be. “Yes, we’ll appear even more united,” I smile, turning back to Pebbles. “And it’ll be easier to pull you onto my lap.”

Pebbles sighs. “I’ll miss sitting on you in front of everyone.”

“You might find your new seat more comfortable,” I remind her, gesturing towards the gnarled, winged back, imposing chair. “You have yet to grace it with your beautiful form.”

“Indeed, one’s ass should grace the queen’s throne, one supposes,” Pebbles says in a haughty, mocking tone. The chair, while smaller than the male version, is still large for her, having been constructed for a female Klendathian.

She performs a short jump, grasping onto the armrests, pulling herself up onto it. “I feel like a child climbing into a high chair.” She scoots into her rightful place, adjusting her cloak. “How do I look?”

“Like the Chieftainess,” I reply before smirking, “A really tiny, adorable one.”

Pebbles exhales loudly, “I’m average height, goddammit.”

I smile at her protest, enjoying the familiarity of her objections. “Does it feel comfortable?” I ask, as I move to take my seat beside her.

Pebbles shuffles before speaking. “As much as a giant chair made from old roots can be. The cloak is helping, I think.” She turns, adjusting her cloak, having it rest like a blanket beneath her. “Not as comfortable as your lap, of course.”

I laugh. “You are welcome to come visit anytime,” I reply, patting my legs.

She smiles before looking out over the massive empty hall. Her face grows more serious as she takes a deep breath. “So, we’ll be sitting like this, and the room will be packed full of people staring right at me?”

I nod. “Yes, like the time you spoke so elegantly before,” I remind her. My poor Pebbles, so full of unnecessary doubts. I wish my words could mend her wounded mind.

Pebbles clears her throat. “Greetings esteemed guests! You stand before me, the great and powerful Roxy,” she says, in a haughty mocking tone again.

She snorts while I chuckle. “You think too much,” I say, crossing my legs over the arm of my chair, while leaning back with my hands crossed behind my head. “It’ll come naturally when you need it, because that’s who you are now.”

Pebbles stares into the distance, her face carrying a slight frown. I wonder what she’s thinking. If I had whatever strange ability she gained from the Mortakin-Tok, the answer would be revealed to me.

I still can scarcely believe it, but too many times now Pebbles has predicted my feelings and reactions to deny the truth any longer. She can read emotions... like the Goddess Machsin could. What does this mean? Maybe she really was sent by the Gods? Some strange unforeseen reaction because she is a human?

Her powers don’t appear to extend beyond this. She mentioned attempting other abilities without success. What if she can imprint emotions into people like Machsin could, and she’s doing it right now to me? A grimace creases my face. No, to think down this path is a road to madness. What if she’s reading my thoughts right now? I steal a peek at her as she sits innocently in her chair, still lost in thought. My sweet, terrifying Pebbles, I almost laugh.

It’s nice to have a moment to take stock of how far we’ve come, of what is yet to be done. Events have worked out in our favor. Zyraxis dead. The Council of Elders has cleared me of any wrongdoing. We have completed our Mortakin-Tok. Important first steps. Yet a long road lies ahead. I must convince the other Chieftains to throw off the oppression of the Scythians with Pebbles’ help, then together we can remove the War Chieftain peacefully, and break our alliance.

What the Scythians do after that is anyone’s guess. Who could say what the enigmatic species would do? If they attack us, we could ally with the Nebians and together crush them. There are many other species recently conquered by them who would relish the chance for revenge. If they could ever forgive us for helping the Scythians. In truth, I’d prefer peace. For too long, my people have bled. Our civilization is anemic, pale and sickly, as we dangle on the precipice of extinction. One more brutal war could tip us over the edge.

Another, more troubling, possibility gnaws at the back of my mind. The one threatened by Zyraxis of the War Chieftains return to Klendathor. I don’t doubt he contacted Gorexius, the despicable wyrm he was.

Would the War Chieftain really leave the front lines of such a stubborn war, to come handle one missing chieftain and battlebarge? I cannot see it, Gorexius lives for war and battle... Even so, what is my plan should he return?

The question is a troubling one, forcing a loud sigh from me. “What’s on your mind, big guy?” Pebbles asks, standing before me. So occupied by my troublesome thoughts, I didn’t even notice her move.

“It’s nothing,” I reply automatically, not wishing to burden her with such concerns.

Pebbles rubs my leg. “Is the offer for your lap still available?” She asks sweetly.

I laugh. “For you always,” I reply, picking her up, once again drinking in her intoxicating yielding presence as she melts into me, my elegant Pebbles.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?” Pebbles ask shifting to look back at me, her face unusually stern.

A flash of annoyance sparks inside of me, not used to having to explain myself. “Nothing you need to concern yourself with. You have enough on your mind,” I reply more stiffly than I intended.

Pebbles frowns, “I don’t need Machsin powers to know you’re hiding something.” She sighs. “Do you know where I’ve seen that expression before?” She pauses, her eyes scanning my face. “Right before you disappeared, with only a message to say you were taken prisoner by the Council of Elders awaiting execution!” Her voice catches, her lips trembling. “Can you imagine how I felt? To have you torn away from me? Never again Krogoth. I swear I won’t do it.” Her words rush out, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

I avert my gaze, unable to withstand her intense emotional appeal. Why can’t she see I’m only trying to protect her the way a Mortakin-Kai should?

Pebbles places a gentle hand against my cheek, guiding my gaze back to hers. “You asked me to trust you. Now it’s your turn to trust me,” she says with a soft smile, her expression open and innocent. Gods, a warrior could sink into those beautiful eyes and never emerge.

My heart thunders in my chest. Every part of me screams to deny her request, to keep her safe from harm, even if it upsets her to do so. Is it a thing born of the divine bond we share? I do not know. Yet I cannot deny the truth of her words, for she is my Chieftainess and I must trust her, and together we’ll face any obstacle.

“You’re right,” I declare, staring intensely into her eyes as she visibly relaxes. “It’s wrong of me to keep things from you, but know it was only ever to shield you from harm.” I take a deep breath before continuing. “You asked me what was on my mind? It’s the worry of War Chieftain Gorexius returning to Klendathor. Although I think it’s unlikely, I cannot be certain what will happen if he does.”

“Okay,” Pebbles leans back against the armrest with her eyes cast down. “Zyraxis said he contacted him, right?” She asks, and I nod in confirmation. “And you’re a Chieftain who commands your clan in battle under him?” Her words betray the wheels turning in her mind. Again, I nod. “Then you abandoned the war, taking a ship and a small crew to Earth.” She plays with her necklace. “So, he’s lost you, his best general, and Xandor, your second in command... How was the war going, last you heard?”

“I’ve heard little recently, but despite initial success, the war has been a tense stalemate for months. The Nebians fight fiercely to protect their core worlds,” I answer, recalling the burning skies of Argon six. Half the world turned to a molten wasteland.

“A whole clan lost, or at least weakened,” Pebbles continues, her tone almost absent. “With a war already on a knife’s edge. They might even have lost ground now. The Scythians asking questions, and expecting results, putting pressure on him.” She looks up, her expression etched with worry.

She thinks he will return! “But that’s exactly why he can’t afford to return. He dares not leave if the situation is so tense. Besides, the War Chieftain loves battle. He craves it. He’ll not leave the battlefield,” I assert quickly, trying to ease her fear.

“What if there are no more battles, Krogoth? The Scythians cannot advance, so both sides regroup licking their wounds, looking for another angle? Like their greatest general, who may or may not be instigating a rebellion?” Pebbles’ eyes widen as her hands clutch mine. “He will return. He can’t afford not to.”

A sense of panic grips my chest at her words. Gods, she’s right! It’s only a matter of time before I’ll have to face him again. I ruthlessly suppress my fears, crushing and molding them into unshakable resolve.

“What are we going to do, Krogoth?” She asks, concern creasing her brow. If only there’s something I could say to put her mind at ease, yet there’s nothing, only a faint glimmer of hope, a deadly path through an unbreakable volcano of war.

“I will face him,” I declare sternly, my gaze hard as stone.

Pebbles’ eyes search mine. “No, Krogoth, you’re afraid,” she gasps in shock. “You don’t believe you can win.” She turns away, her eyes moistening.

Before I can answer, soft footsteps approach, grabbing my attention. I jolt upright, straightening, as I peer down the hall to see Harkus approaching.

“Ah, there you are!” Harkus exclaims, a broad smile on his kindly old face. “Thought I might find you here. Someone said they could hear loud noises from inside,” he says as he opens his arms wide. I nervously shift my eyes to Pebbles, who’s wiping her eyes dry. They couldn’t have heard us making love. Must have been us moving chairs.

I gently lower Pebbles back onto the floor, giving her shoulder a little squeeze, as I stand up with a smile on my face, happy to see the old scholar despite the awkward timing.

“Hail Harkus!” I declare, gesturing towards him as he stands before the raised platform. “Is it the Scholar or the Elder you go by now?” I ask.

Harkus chuckles “Oh, if I had my way I would be known as the Teacher or the Gardener.” His bushy eyebrows drop as he looks at Pebbles, a flash of concern on his face. “Are you well Rocks? You look upset,” he asks.

Does he think I would dare hurt my precious Mortakin-Kis? I suppress the annoyance that threatens to strip the smile from my face. “Hail Harkus the Teacher.” Pebbles gives a curt bow, as graceful as always. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.” She looks up at me with a sad, soft smile that twists my heart with sadness. “We were just arguing about the future.”

“Yes,” Harkus nods sagely, “I can only imagine the pressures you two are under.” He looks between us with concern. “I’m only a call away if I can assist with anything.” He looks at Pebbles before he gestures to his wrist console. I choose to ignore the implied implications, judging his motivations to protect Pebbles, a noble one.

“You’re very kind, thank you.” Pebbles takes a deep breath and straightens her cloak before continuing. “The white robes of an Elder suit you,” she says sweetly.

“These?” Harkus recoils, patting his fine, flowing pristine robes. “White stains so easily, especially amongst the muck and dirt,” he sighs a moment before his face brightens again. “And look at you Rocks, every inch the Chieftainess. That cloak is splendid on you, truly exquisite.” He strokes his long snowy beard. “It warms my tired old heart to see a Chieftainess in this hall again. And to think recently you stood a frightened yet fierce warrior about to face the Proving.” He glances upward with arms outstretched. “The Gods are kind.”

Pebbles looks a little flustered at his words, as if unsure how to respond. “Come Harkus, let’s discuss matters at the Great Table,” I offer, placing a gentle hand on the small of Pebbles’ back. “You are an equal among friends here.” Leading Pebbles off the raised wooden platform.

“You honor me, Chieftain,” Harkus says as he pulls out a stump-like seat from under the table. “There are three things I want to discuss.” He shifts his robes as he takes his seat, releasing a pleasant sigh. “Much better.” He smiles before continuing. “And why not meet in person? Gives me an excuse to check on my vegetables. You know you can’t grow anything on that ghastly mountain? I’ve tried!” he exclaims, chuckling.

“Wouldn’t doubt it.” I pull out a chair for Pebbles. “I recall sliding down its cragged barren rocks. Not a place for the fragile,” I laugh, helping Pebbles into her chair, and nearly yelp with surprise when she sneakily pinches my ass. She smirks up at me cheekily, as if daring me to say something, but I only feel joy as she’s back to her usual playful self.

“You know better than most what I’m working with.” Harkus waves his hand dismissively. “Anyway, let’s start with this nasty business with Zyraxis.” He activates his wrist console, showing the gruesome scene of the glider crash. “My assistants verified your report, from what remains that were uneaten.”

Pebbles and I share an anxious look before Harkus continues. “A disgrace to flaunt our sacred laws so brazenly.” He shakes his head. “Thank the Gods you both survived the encounter. However, this issue has sparked some... interesting debate amongst the Council.” He pauses for a breath. “Now, it says here you wish no further action to be taken against the Magaxus?” He inquires.

“Yes, Zyraxis lied to the others. The responsibility should stop with his death,” I answer as I finally take my seat beside Pebbles across from Harkus. I shuffle my foot against Pebbles’ ridiculously tiny feet in revenge for her early transgressions, enjoying the flash of surprise on her face.

Harkus leans back in his chair until he nearly falls off the back of it. “Stupid stools!” He grabs the table, stabilizing himself. “Never understood why they never put back supports on these things.” He pauses. “My poor heart,” he chortles, steadying his nerves. “Where was I?... Yes, some in the Council feel the Magaxus should face some punishment for their recent actions. Led by the nose or willingly, they have not been diligent, arrogant even, knowing the War Chieftain protects them. And there is also the matter of what to do with young Dracoth, who yet lives.” He rubs a hand over his bald head.

Perhaps the Magaxus Clan should get a shoot across the bow? But is it worth angering the War Chieftain further? “I’ll leave that decision in the hands of the Council. However, my recommendation still stands,” I state. Looking intently into Harkus’ brown eyes. “Dracoth... Should face no punishment over this matter.” Pebbles kicks me in the ankle while she appears completely poised and serene. Little vipertail!

Harkus considers as he strokes his beard. “I hear things, Krogoth. He’s swearing revenge on you. Sometimes a thorn-weed must be plucked to allow the flowers to flourish?” He says as if in question.

I scoff. “He’s young and full of pride.” Not unlike myself at his age, when I challenged the War Chieftain full of passionate hatred, full of naivety. “I relish the opportunity to see what becomes of him.” My hands clench into fists. “And if I must face him again, I will.” If I live long enough. “Harkus, tell the Council it is my ardent wish that Dracoth remains unpunished for this.”

Harkus nods, making a note on this console. “Very well,” he says before he looks up smiling. “Now let’s move onto a much happier topic. Your Mortakin-Tok!” He exclaims, bringing his hands together excitedly. “We never speak of the vision to anyone not bonded by the Gods because we use it to gauge truthfulness.” He nods towards me. “As you recall, Krogoth, I would not divulge a word of it despite your insistence.”

He was as stubborn as an old borack. “Yes,” I reply simply.

Harkus glances downward, his face tinged with sadness. “I’m one of the few remaining who can verify a Mortakin-Tok. When my love, Cassiana, and I completed ours, the wise women at the temple of Lanaisor were on hand to do it,” He sighs. “How times have changed, eh?”

“Now that we’ve done it, we can verify others now,” Pebbles chimes in eagerly.

“Indeed, Rocks. That is why this is so important.” Harkus smiles at her. “Please tell me what you saw?” Harkus crosses his fingers under his chin as he studies us closely.

Pebbles and I exchange a quick look before I shrug and she giggles. “We saw the battle against the Void Bringer, as they called it in the vision,” Pebbles recites from memory. “We destroyed the terrifying thing with our powers and then we ended up somewhere else, like floating in space,” Pebbles says, laughing.

Harkus holds up a hand, as he titters, “Say no more. I remember that part fondly,” he says as a little color rises in his cheeks. “Amazing! The Gods have blessed your bond. I congratulate you both on doing what many thought was impossible.” His face beams from end to end.

“Truth be told, even I was skeptical.” His fingers deftly work on his console. “Where is that menu again? You know I had to get an assistant to help me find the Mortakin-Tok records. No one remembers!” He frowns as he continues his search. “Ah, here it is!” He gasps “Gods, the last record was two hundred and fifty years ago. Where does the time go?”

I squeeze Pebbles’ hand under the table, official acknowledgement of our bond, our Mortakin-Tok. None now can doubt our word. Humans and Klendathians can be joined. Would it result in a new generation? A ... child? My heart flutters at the thought. Imagining being a father always seemed an impossibility until now. I glance over at Pebbles, who’s staring at me with intent, and I wonder if she’s thinking the same.

Harkus interrupts my cheerful thoughts. “Ah ha, that’s the happy couple added now. You are officially Mortakin-Kai and Mortakin-Kis. Congratulations once again!” He stands up from his chair to perform a deep bow.

I laugh. “Sit, old friend, no need for such formalities.”

Harkus seats himself. “It seemed appropriate,” he chuckles. “When Cassiana and I were verified, the wise woman sprayed holy water on our faces.”

Pebbles smiles. “I could have used a cooling down after our vision,” she quips, drawing laughter from us all.

After a brief pause, Harkus clears his throat. “And this leads me to my third reason for visiting. To answer, or perhaps it’s better to say, to attempt to address any questions you might have,” he says, motioning towards himself. “I certainly had my fair share,” he adds with a fond smile. “We bombarded our poor wise woman with them.”

I feel my pulse race as I try to recall the myriad of questions I had after the visions. “Were the Gods mortal like us?” I ask in a hurry.

“Was any of it real?” Pebbles asks simultaneously. I smile as she gives me a knowing look.

Harkus laughs. “You both have inquisitive minds!” He rubs his beard before continuing, “I’ll start with your question Rocks, because it may invalidate Krogoths in the answering.” He pauses in thought. “In a sense, the vision is not real, as I died during my ordeal, yet I stand before you, alive and mostly well. However, we believe it is real, that those events took place. However, none know for sure this is entirely theoretical.”

“You died during the vision?” I ask in surprise. “What killed you?”

“There were so many ways to die.” Harkus shakes his head. “I was part of Dagdorix’s group. We met up with Machsin and my Mortakin-Kis, but we both got shot by a large floating machine,” he sighs. “We both made it so far. One of the farthest I’ve heard of.”

He made it to the last room before the Machine God? Pebbles chimes in nonchalantly, “We defeated the Machine God.”

Harkus jolts alert, as if slapped. “You both fought the actual Machine God?” he asks in disbelief.

“Yes, Krogoth was Dagdorix, and I was Machsin and together we killed it,” she says sweetly, like recounting a casual walk through the woods.

Harkus’ mouth is slightly agape, a strange expression to see on the wise old scholar. “What?” He glances between the two of us. “Is this a jest? To mock your poor old teacher?” he asks, looking at me.

I chuckle. “She speaks the truth, Harkus. We had the powers of the Gods themselves, and together we banished the Machine God to another realm.” I scratch my head, trying to remember. I knew exactly what I was doing during the vision, now it feels like grasping at a memory of a memory of a dream, almost faded away.

Harkus has two hands covering his mouth as he listens. “Truly unbelievable,” he mumbles. “There is a record over one thousand years old where a couple claimed to be Arawnoth and Dranuxia, but they didn’t make it far and few even believed it to be true,” he says, moving to stroke his beard.

A tangled knot of doubt churns in my gut. Since the vision, my faith has been shaken, although I have not voiced my concerns to anyone. “What does it matter, Harkus? The Gods aren’t gods at all, just powerful warlocks,” I remark with more intensity than I intended, feeling my temper flare. “Pah! Even my Prospects would tear them apart. Weak and clawless, full of arrogant pride. Some even ran from battle, Harkus,” I pause, shaking my head. “And we have been worshiping these cowards for millennia? The epitome of our noble blood? False idols and lies.”

Harkus nods sagely. “I had the very same questions Krogoth, many of us do,” he acknowledges. “It was a hotly debated topic when there were more of us.”

“You still believe, Harkus. Tell me why!” I press impatiently, as Pebbles squeezes my hand.

Harkus takes a deep breath, his eyes drifting off. “Four hundred years ago, Cassiana and I welcomed our first child... A baby girl. Aerith was her name. Green eyes that twinkled like the moons of Tuskar, just like her mother. You should have seen her, my perfect little puffrio,” he says absently, his old eyes moistening with each word.

“She grew very sick, her skin became pale, her fierce little hands that used to grip tightly onto my fingers became lifeless.” Harkus dabs his eyes with his robes. “The healers said there was nothing that could be done, some genetic abnormality. This was before the Scythians loaned us their healing pods, you understand.” He glances between us. “In our desperation we turned to the old ways. We left her cot near a window under the moonlight, and prayed to our Goddess Machsin, every night until sleep took us both.”

“I saw her. The Goddess. I swear it on all that is sacred. On the third night, a purple light surrounded Aerith’s cot. I could feel her presence, a serene sense that everything was going to be well filled me.” Harkus smiles warmly. “Over the next few days Aerith grew stronger until finally she was back to her normal bouncy self again.”

Harkus locks eyes with me. “That’s why I believe, Krogoth.”

“That’s a beautiful story Harkus,” Pebbles interjects, her own eyes moist with unshed tears. “What ever became of your Aerith?”

Harkus scoffs bitterly. “The Scythians took her.”