Chronicles of Yugure: Plummeting into Uncharted Depths

Day Eighteen

"Get up y'lousy mutt!" The deep grungy voice of a reptiloid snarls as a bucket of cold seawater covers my backside. I mumble pulling my tail between my legs, chilled from the water. It feels like I haven't gotten much sleep at all- maybe four or five hours. Ten hours of sleep, my mother would always say, ten hours of sleep is what keeps you on your feet.

Well, I got less than half of that. My captives give me a nasty glare as they open up the cage and quickly point their weapons at me. 'As if I can escape,' I imagine myself flying as fast as I can as far away from these creeps as possible, but I can't leave my friends.

"Move," he says bluntly and swipes his weapon at me, ushering me out of my metal barred bed. I, hesitantly, do as commanded. These could be my very last thoughts, so please tell my mum I love her if, in fact, I don't make it past today.

Is this the end? Is this where I shall die? Are they going to execute me, my friends? My body starts to quiver with anxiety and fear. You may ask, do I fear death? Why, as strange as it may seem, I think I'm more afraid of the aftermath of death. What happens afterward is more frightening to me than death itself. The reality that life goes on without you is what really stings. Soon to be swept away like ashes of a distant memory.

The guards lead me toward the gargantuan mammoth skull. Its dry engraved calcium frame exhibits many tapestries and banners strung around the entirety of it. They are of different eras and languages from many different cultures. 'Wonder where they acquired those?'

I can see some of the engravings carved into the skull. They seem crudely done, not by the hand of a seasoned artist. Most of the symbols look like an ancient system of hieroglyphics dating back to the era of when some of the earliest dinosaurs that learned to speak.

Wanting to get a closer look, I contemplate scooting forward. I decide against myself, considering I my be shot on moments notice for getting too close to whoever, or whatever is inside.

The wolfwyre general, our captor, steps inside the skull, through the nasal passage which has been carved away at and fashioned into a working doorway. Its door, an intricately embroidered portiere, wavers in the slight breeze that has fallen upon our campsite as it falls back into place to cover the entrance of the mysterious quarters.

I'm being shoved, yet again, with more dully pointed sticks, into a line consisting of me, Sendaar, and Namazzi. We all take worrisome glances at each other, wishing that we could speak. My gag had started to feel tight a while ago and it tastes like someone vomited on it before it befell unto my possession.

They make us stand there for what seems like hours. If we move the slightest bit, they jab us with their weapons and bark a command to stay still. Like a trained soldier, I stay put. Although the weapons are no match for my tough hide, it is creating a rather large bruise that I don't wish to encourage its growth.

Finally, after what seems forever, the general returns. His face, as tart as ever, looks our way and calls to his underlings to search our supplies and personal belongings. 'Oh no! The journal!' My heart cries out in agony. I can see the dread on Sendaar's face as he, too, realizes that they will find the book...

"General!" A smaller wolfwyre calls out and approaches his commander. He pounds his chest with his fist and kneels for a short moment only to stand back up again and hand him my species catalog.

The general removes his helmet completely to reveal a wicked grin crossing his face. He grabs the book out of the soldier's hand and raises it high in the air. This act is met by multiple howls, each milk curdling and horrid.

Dramatically, he turns away from his regiment and heads back inside the mammoth skull. Again, we wait. This time, however, it's not too long before he returns. His face is scrunched and he acts furious with rage. He stomps toward me growling and slaps me in the face.

"What is this writing, creature?!" Slobber drips from his maw, falling only a few inches from my hands as he rips the gag off my face.

I dare to not reply. My lack of response is received with another slap to the face. It stings and feels hot compared to my other cheek.

"Answer me you blasted mutt!" The wolfwyre raises his hand to strike me once again, but a quiet voice halts him.

Someone else exits the skull chamber, followed by another smaller figure similar to the first. A troll, in his mid-adult years advances toward us with a smaller child, following shortly behind him. His son, no doubt by the identical nose and eyes, looks in his early teens. Both a light shade of blue-grey, silver locks, and green eyes, it looks as if he may have cloned a younger one of himself. The elder one, in his maroon robe and garments, wavered one bejeweled arm covered in bangles and baubles.

"That's enough, Wardell. Lower your hand, lest I strike you down tenfold what you deliver unto our esteemed guests." General Wardell begrudgingly obliges to his overseer's command.

"Yes, Aaryan."

The troll steps forward and looks me over. The fact that he considers us guests is a bit of an exaggeration to say the least. His son scowls at us, as if irritated that he will not get to witness the violence of Wardell's fury.

He places his hand over his silver beard and fingers through it. There isn't much to finger through, however. It was rather a close shave to the face, giving about only an inch or so of length that wrapped around from his chin up to his sideburns. "This," he held up the book to my face, "this is not any language I have ever crossed. Now, tell me what this language is, and interpret it." Aaryan threw the book down at my feet and stood there, waiting.

I guess it makes sense as to why they have not seen the Grypites alphabet before. The First Realm has been shut off from visitors for nearly three centuries due to the collapse of the original portals. Over half of the population in Yugure who were there to see the gryphons before the collapse of the portal are long dead and long forgotten.

"Why don't we just torment the freak until he gives us what we want, father? He is nothing more than a stubborn animal." The fiery spawn of the elder troll spits at us with anger. "I don't see the point in questioning him further. He clearly wishes to die by our hand."

"Enough, Kazim!" His father hisses out of the corner of his mouth. "You are not of age to be giving your mouth the freedom to spurt your suggestions, now hold your tongue."

The child, grumbling, stomps back to his father's chambers. I was close to cracking a smile, but Aaryan's expression reminds me why we were tied up.

"Now, listen here, creature," his face sternly gazes at me, "you will tell us what these markings are and what they mean, or we will kill your friends." Nonchalantly, he waves his arm closest to Sendaar and Naz, who are to my right.

I start to feel feeble with my legs wobbling. A pit forms in my stomach- the sickening kind that makes you want to faint. If it were my life, I wouldn't have such a hard time saying no, but these are not my lives to give. "It," I sigh, "eh, 'tis Grypites, the gryphon alphabet."

"Continue." The troll says twirling his hand in a circle.

"W-well, that's it."

He forces out a laugh. "No, my dear boy, it's not. You see, I have direct orders to find out the contents of this book, and I demand that you translate it for me. Now."

'Direct orders from who?' I wish to ask him, but dare not to. "But, but sir, to what? And you must know that I can't possibly put the entire book into 'nother language in a mere moment's notice. 'Twould take quite a long time." My back starts to sweat and my legs begin to quake. 'Perhaps with this time, we can form a plan to escape.'

Again, my captor stroked his beard, pondering my proposal. He finally grunts and nods, agreeing. "I'll give you one week, and that is being quite generous I think."

I nod back at him, "Very well. One week." To be honest, one week is more than enough time to translate it to any common language, which gives us plenty of time to devise an escape.

Aaryan smiles in approval and begins to head back to his housing. "Set up a tent for our guests, and keep an eye on them. Make sure our scholar is doing his part of the deal." The troll pointed his finger at me and firmly stares me down.

I relax a slight bit, knowing that most of the tension has passed. Sendaar passes me a worrisome glance, but I offer a calm look in return.

Everything is going to be fine. Everything's fine.