#bytar

Ireus: He doesn't really care much about offerings or worship, mostly because most of the time people only come to worship him when they want something. He sees people all the time and judges them often, mostly to see if they were good or bad and if they're bad, he will give them bad luck, and if they're good, good luck. You know how it is.

Atlios: Oh he loves it! He loves offerings and when people try to worship him. More often than not, if a child is alone there he might come down to talk and play with them. Sometimes people bring their children and leave them at the shrines to try to make it so they'll grow up with a lot of friends.

Gadur: most of the offerings are stuff that people had stolen. Thieves like to give him a bit of stuff that they had stolen in the past for protection. If the offering is good enough, he'll give some protection but a lot of the time he doesn't believe what they give him is good enough... he also doesn't like people who hurt/kill women and children.

Bytar: He likes offerings but he loves worship. He believes the more people that worship a god, the better that that god is and it's true! Though he takes the offerings very lightly, and only really cares about a few things. He's picky.

Osus: It likes offerings and such, but it is not what it is looking for. It more or less just likes to watch people and gain more followers. The more followers the stronger the god is! Plus it just wants to be able to help people. It likes to help all the poor people that give offerings... more often than not, it gives them a few chances to get a lot of money legally.

Isdis: They don't want offerings or anything of that sort. Their followers collect offerings and then hand them out to people that really need it and they really like seeing that! Followers and worship is nice but it also makes them feel a little nervous.

Qistis: He is a very well-known and well-beloved God. A lot of people worship him and give him offerings, and he loves all of it! He really likes the attention though is upset that not many people care much for his brother other than the... bad types. Many people worship him and leave offerings when they have children because they want good things to happen to their kids.

Krusch, as strong as he was, was beginning to show signs of age, tiredness and arthritis seeping into his bones. He had asked Asha to pick his successor, having no children of his own.

Skalidor had recommended Sutara, citing her speed and wit. But Asha had smiled, and asked him to take up the position, as her friend.

Four months later, Skalidor was officially given the title of General.

The years after that were a bit muddied for Skalidor, the small details getting lost within the feeling of responsibility that had grown inside him as he gained experience. 

But he remembered in almost perfect detail when Asha had introduced to him Lou, as if they had never met. Even though they had never talked before, Skalidor knew of Lou, had seen the poetry carved into the tunnel walls for all to see. He had talked to Lou’s parents about the boy’s tendency to go too far when spelunking in the unexplored caves, and he could clearly recall the vigor with which Lou participated in festivals and slither pits. 

So when Asha, strong and steady Asha, dragged Lou, energetic but nervous, over to Skalidor to share the news, Skalidor wished them well.

While he never quite came to know Lou as well as he knew Asha, Skalidor could say with a certain sincerity that they had become friends. He’d express his concerns over disputes to Lou, the peppy young man offering the occasional piece of advice. And Lou, in turn, would come to Skalidor with his anxieties over his art, or whether he could ever be as good to Asha as she was to him. They’d discuss at length the songs passed down by their forefathers, the cave system that provided the tomb with food and extra space, and sometimes, when nearly everyone else in the tomb was at rest, they’d talk about family. Skalidor supposed he might one day find his partners; Lou was tightly bound to his. On some days, they never saw each other, too busy with their own duties to take the time to chat and catch up.

They were friends, and Skalidor never wanted that to change.

+=+=+=+=+

When Cole was born, Skalidor was in his early forties, still single, but happy all the same. It was a good year, the number of deaths hitting an all-time low and the harvest bringing in more food than usual; there had been a festival to celebrate. Asha had made her appearance, but had spent most of the night at home with her husband and son, leaving it up to Skalidor to oversee the event. The first chance he got he’d slithered off to Lou and Asha’s cavern, to see Cole with his own eyes now that the child was more than four weeks old.

“He’s… sso ssmall.” Skalidor commented, watching attentively as Lou rocked the child back and forth in his arms. He hadn’t been expecting Cole to be so small, it didn’t fit with the image of four-year-old Asha in his mind. “Are all infants this ssmall?”

Lou smiled, slowing down when he noticed Cole stirring. “Cole’s actually a bit big, Skal. He’ll probably grow to be taller than me.” Given the way Asha towered over Lou, Skalidor didn’t doubt that.

But was the size of a human infant comparable to the size of a freshly hatched Serpentine? Skalidor thought of the few Serpentine couplings he knew; none of them had had a clutch yet. Sutara and her lovers were expecting, but their clutch wouldn’t hatch for a while yet. Perhaps Skalidor could ask to watch the hatching? He didn’t have a coupling yet, but maybe one day… and it certainly couldn’t hurt to be prepared.

“You ever think you’ll have this?” Lou asked, breaking Skalidor from his musings.

“Have what?” Skalidor asked, already knowing the answer.

“You know.” Lou shrugged. “A family. Lovers. Children. You ever think you’ll have that, as old as you are now?” The jab at his age meant nothing to Skalidor, who would outlive Lou by decades, but it did get him thinking.

“I don’t really know…” Skalidor concluded, crossing his arms as he mused. “Nobody’s really caught my eye, and with how busy I’ve been managing everything, I don’t think I will.” He locked eyes with Lou, “There’s a reason the title of General isn’t hereditary.”

Lou laughed quietly, standing up to put Cole to bed. “I’m sure your someones are out there, Skal.”

“I would have met them already if they were, Lou.” Skalidor said, picking up his staff as he made his way to the entrance. “I’m just happy to see everyone else doing well.”

“Well,” Lou said, meeting Skalidor by the entrance, “Just don’t forget to take care of yourself, Skal.”

Skalidor nodded. “I won’t.”

Thoughts of family followed Skalidor all the way back to his cavern.

+=+=+=+=+

The next few years passed by uneventfully, save for the occasional death. The yearly harvests had been shrinking, but not so much as to cause fear.

Cole was growing more confident each day, going from crawling around the cavern to running through the tomb with the same abandon his mother once had, Lou chasing after him frantically in the hopes of catching the toddler before he got into trouble.

Skalidor had developed a fondness for the child, likely due to all the time he’d had to watch over Cole while Asha and Lou went off into the caverns for alone time. There weren’t many places for young couples to get away from the community, so it wasn’t uncommon to find young teens—both Serpentine and human—laughing and wandering the caves.

This time, Asha had left to ensure the stability of the tunnels after a recent earthquake, Lou accompanying her to look for signs she might miss. Which left Cole, a toddler with a tendency to get into trouble at a moment’s notice, in the care of Skalidor.

Honestly, Skalidor had faced more perplexing challenges. Cole wasn’t old enough to have met anyone in the community yet—a tradition that Asha had seriously been considering breaking, it didn’t make sense to isolate her child for so long—but Skalidor was more than capable of entertaining the toddler for a few hours, keeping Cole in place by setting him in the coils of his tail.

Cole was babbling, stacking the rocks Skalidor had given him and knocking them over with shrieks of laughter, so Skalidor had taken a moment to glance at this year’s census, absentmindedly noting that the harvest had been delayed again this year. It was then that Cole had chosen to go silent, prompting Skalidor to turn back to the toddler.

Cole was staring up at him, big brown eyes (Asha’s eyes, Skalidor thought) full of curiosity. Skalidor stared back, his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth out of habit.

Cole stuck his tongue out, as if in imitation of Skalidor. He did it again, and again, and suddenly Skalidor was chuckling, his tail shaking as Cole giggled in response.

“Uh!” Cole said, holding his arms out. Skalidor obliged, picking up the toddler and shaking him slightly, making Cole laugh.

Skalidor didn’t need a family; he already had one.

+=+=+=+=+

The prosperity surrounding Cole’s birth didn’t last. The harvests became fewer and further in between, reports of a blight coming in droves. Starvation had always been a worry in the tomb—they needed something more reliable than what they could find in the caves—but it had never been this bad. By the time Cole was four, eight humans and one serpentine had died from starvation—and the number of those who were malnourished was more than thrice that.

Serpentine didn’t need to eat as much as their human friends, meaning the blight impacted the humans the most. It was disheartening, watching friends and family suffer and not being able to do anything about it, but the community pulled through. They always did.

It all came to a head when Cole was six—Skalidor could remember, in near perfect detail, the apprehension on Lou and Asha’s face when they explained where they were going.

They were searching for another source of food, Asha had said. And if they were lucky, a way aboveground, where the sun shone and crops could grow and maybe things wouldn’t be as bad. It was a long shot, but they had hope. And so they went, down into the tunnels, far further than anyone had been before, promising to return with good news.

By the third day, Cole had grown restless in their absence, becoming moody and disagreeable no matter what Skalidor did.

By the seventh, the effects of their absence reached the community, tensions and anxiety rising as the lack of news made room for fear. Skalidor was called out to break up more than twelve disputes on the eighth day alone.

The community couldn’t continue like this, Skalidor decided. If Asha and Lou didn’t return before twenty days had passed, then he’d send out a search party to look for them.

It was on the thirteenth day. There had been a commotion in the central chamber, sending Skalidor slithering out to see it. When he got there, he stopped in his tracks.

Asha had returned.

Relief mixed with anxiety as Skalidor noted Lou’s absence, which quickly became dread when he saw Asha stumbling towards him, badly injured.

“Get a medic. Now!” Skalidor hissed, watching as Chokun ran off to grab one. Skalidor made his way through the crowd, repeatedly telling everyone to disperse, make way.

“Hey, Skal.” Asha said breathlessly, her face far too pale. Her shirt was stained with blood. “Had to come back early…” She trailed off, gazing at the floor. “Lou’s—he’s—” she choked out a sob, “The cave fell in. I couldn’t get him free in time. I—” Skalidor had put his arms on her shoulders to steady her, but Asha simply crumpled, shoulders shaking.

The crowd parted to let in Vera and Sutara, who quickly ushered Asha away to treat her wounds. She didn’t protest as she might have before the journey, letting them guide her through the tears blurring her eyes.

As she left, Skalidor felt something tighten in his chest. He should have done something, should have had them be accompanied by someone—anyone. This shouldn’t have happened. He should have done better.

What was he going to tell Cole?

+=+=+=+=+

The moment he was able, Skalidor rushed into the infirmary, Cole at his side, to see Asha. “Will she be alright?” he’d hissed, worry turning his tone hard. Sutara nodded, gesturing to the bed where Asha lay.

Cole was already at her side, crying quietly as he held her hand. Skalidor let out a sigh of relief. Asha would live. She’d be okay. But Lou…

There was nothing Skalidor could do now. He could only focus on who was still alive. He didn’t have time to mourn his friend just yet.

“Hey, Skal.” Asha said quietly, sitting up in bed. She’d pulled Cole up onto her lap, running her fingers through his hair to calm him. She smiled at Skalidor, but this smile did not hide her exhaustion.

“Asha…” Skalidor wasn’t sure where to begin. There were so many things he needed to say, with no idea how to say it. He wanted to comfort her over Lou’s death, he needed her to begin leading again, he wanted her to stay in bed and recover—he didn’t know what was the right choice, and what might lead to even more lives lost.

“It’s alright, Skal. I’ll manage.” She was staring at Cole, who’d stopped crying, still playing with his hair. Skalidor watched awkwardly, not sure what to say.

“Cole,” Asha began, Cole turning to her attentively, “Can you go get Sutara and ask her for some water?” Cole nodded fiercely, jumping off the bed and running off to find the serpentine in question.

“He won’t be gone long.” Skalidor cautioned, catching on to what Asha was doing.

“Then we’ll make this quick.” Asha said, her voice firm as it was normally. Her hands were trembling. “Lou…”

Skalidor couldn’t stand by anymore. With a gentleness that belied his imposing presence, he wrapped his arms around Asha. She broke down then, returning the hug as sobs wracked her frame.

“There was nothing I could do, yet I still feel responsible. If we hadn’t gone down that way, or if I’d noticed the instability sooner, then—”

Skalidor hushed her with a hiss. “Of coursse it lookss like there’ss ssomething you could have done. Guilt is like that.”

“Yeah” Asha agreed. “Guilt is just like that.”

With that, they parted, Skalidor leaning back to let Asha resettle herself. After a moment of adjusting, she looked to him again. Her words, though they were spoken softly, cut through Skalidor like a knife.

“How do I tell Cole that his father is never coming home?”

Skalidor didn’t have an answer for her.

+=+=+=+=+

Five days later, Chokun found Cole crying over his mother’s body, begging her to get up.

Her stitches had broken, and she’d collapsed on the floor from blood loss.

By the time Sutara and Vera arrived, she was long gone.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole hadn’t been adjusting well. Between the grief of losing his parents and the change of switching caverns, it was a wonder the boy hadn’t crumbled in on himself. No, Cole had suddenly gained a stark solemnity in his actions and words, and he’d isolate himself in the corners of Skalidor’s cavern, refusing to speak to anyone. Skalidor was worried, because what reasonable adult wouldn’t be, but he struggled to make time for Cole more and more each day, what was once a shared burden of leadership between him and Asha falling to him and him alone.

Worse, something was wrong with the other humans. Some kind of sickness, one that nobody had seen before, had started claiming lives a few months after Asha’s death. The Serpentine were (mostly) fine, but that did nothing to dissuade the panic that gripped the community. The tomb they called home was becoming a prison, rendering everyone subject to sickness and blight.

Skalidor and the other Serpentine did what they could; some even went so far as to induce hibernation to allow the humans bigger rations. Sutara had expanded the infirmary, using all of her resources to combat the sickness that plagued the tomb.

But it was in vain. The humans, who had once numbered more than a hundred, were reduced to barely fifty in the following years.

It was clear that all of this death was having an effect on Cole—it was having an effect on everyone, the choking fear turning the once homely tomb into a death trap—the boy refused to eat, insisting that others needed it more. He had only become more gloomy when Sutara came with mixed news—Cole and Asha had an immunity to the sickness, but Asha had likely been the one to bring it to the tomb. Cole had run off to the empty cavern where Asha and Lou once lived at that, refusing to come out for more than a week.

It hurt Skalidor, not being able to do anything. All he had was a staff and a title, and look where it had gotten him—General of a prison, a death trap that nobody would escape. Cole was nine now, he should be learning how to control his powers from his mother, should be dancing at the festivals and trying to fight in the slither pits, but no, here he was, growing up as everyone around him died, and there was nothing Skalidor could offer Cole beyond false reassurances—

“Skalidor?” Skalidor turned over to face Cole, staring blearily at the child who’d woken him o late. He stood up, offering his coils to Cole.

“Yesss, Cole?” Skalidor asked, as the child in question settled in among the coils, curling up within.

“What’s the sky supposed to look like?”

Skalidor stood there. Okay. He hadn’t been expecting that question; he hadn’t heard it since Cole was five.

“Well, it’s ssaid to be big, bigger than anything you’ve ever seen before.” Skalidor began, happy to have this chance to connect with Cole.

Cole wrinkled his nose, sticking out his tongue on habit, “Bigger than the central chamber?”

“Yess.” Skalidor hummed, pulling Cole closer. Cole leaned into the touch. “It’ss big, and bright, and full of—” what were those things called again? Oh, yes, “—cloudss.”

“What are clouds?” Cole’s voice wasn’t as quiet now, some of the old curiosity returning.

“Hmmm, let me think,” Skalidor tapped his chin, trying to recall what he’d been told. “They’re like the mossss in the cavess, but white.”

Cole stuck his tongue out at that, as though musing it over. “And what does the sun look like?”

“Like fire” Skalidor whispered, “But brighter than any fire you’ll ever find in the tomb.”

Cole was silent for a moment.

Skalidor supposed the boy was satisfied, when—

“Do you think we’ll ever see the sky?”

Skalidor smiled. “I can only hope.”

+=+=+=+=+

“We can’t go on like thiss.” Sutara whispered, wary of Cole who was playing with Chokun and Bytar nearby. “There’s not enough humanss left to keep the community alive, even if the ssicknesss were to dissappear right now.”

Skalidor nodded. “We’ll just make do for as long as we can, then.”

But they both knew those were empty words.

+=+=+=+=+

When Cole was ten, there was a tunnel collapse, bigger than any before. It was the same set of tunnels that were hit directly by the earthquake all those years ago, Asha’s precautions finally failing.

“Give me a damage report.” Skalidor hissed, watching as Serpentine—the remaining humans not caught in the collapse, less than ten, were far too sick to leave the infirmary—cleared away the rubble in the hopes of finding survivors.

“The tunnelss that collapssed were ssuppossed to be unoccupied, sssir.” Chokun stated.

“But…?” It was more of a statement than a question.

“The Sserpentine who chosse to hibernate were there. And the humanss who were still healthy were tending to them.”

“Which meansss we may have just lost all of them.” Skalidor concluded, gripping his staff far too tightly. This wasn’t supposed to happen, it wasn’t supposed to end this soon, how, how were they supposed to recover from this? The blight’s effects were reaching the Serpentine; more and more had started hibernating every day. There had been more than fifty sleeping in those tunnels.

They couldn’t survive down here much longer. They had to find a way out. But trying to do just that had cost Lou’s life and brought upon the sickness. There was no way out that didn’t end in tragedy.

Skalidor growled. He’d never paid much thought to the surface dwellers before, their existence becoming a distant memory, but now he needed someone to blame. Now he needed someone to take his frustration out on. The surface dwellers had been the ones to seal the Serpentine away, the ones to condemn everyone in the tomb to this fate. Were it not for them, Cole might have had a life up there, below the sky, where he should have been. Were it not for them, the Serpentine wouldn’t be watching their human brethren die off slowly, while starving off themselves.

If Skalidor ever lived to see the tomb open, he’d make the surface dwellers pay.

+=+=+=+=+

Cole was the only human left in the tomb, and that made him precious. Of course, he’d always been viewed favorably, being the son of the Master of Earth, and thus the next in line to lead and protect, but now almost everyone kept an eye out for him, doing what they could to keep him alive.

The next four years passed without much incident—Serpentine continued to die, just as eggs continued to hatch—and Cole was growing fast.

It was on a day like any other when, for the first time in more than 200 years, the tomb opened.

Skalidor wasn’t sure he should trust the Anacondrai standing before him, but the words of revenge and the promise of a better life swayed him. He’d assist this “Pythor” in his goals, but only to the point where it served the Constrictai. Only to the point where it wouldn’t endanger Cole.

Cole was the first Tomb Dweller in 200 years to see the sky. It was just as big as the stories said. Skalidor had watched as Cole reached up towards it, his eyes squinted in the bright light, had smiled when Cole laughed, joyous and carefree.

The Serpentine were his people. Cole was his family.