The War For The Pallid Throne

He Who Broke the Rat's Heart

Do you know what the deadliest creature on the peninsula is? Lions, bears, sharks, and humans. I've heard all these answers before and none of them are correct. The greatest killer is a beast that most people overlook because of its size, and there isn't a person alive that hasn't been bitten by one. The mosquito waits in the dark, attracted by your breath and thirsty for a drop of blood. Yet, it isn't their thirst that should scare you, but the diseases they carry. Remember, the true god of war wasn't killed by steel, fire, or brimstone, but a cough.    

20

Icarus's hand wouldn't stop shaking. He held his palm up to his nose, trying to steady the rhythm. His sister's death upset him, but this was different. The rush of adrenaline during the battle had masked his fever, but now, after having won, his hearts still beat like a drum.

"What's going on?" he asked, a sharp pain stabbing his chest.

Icarus dropped to his knees, doubling over as blood spilled from his mouth. That's when he noticed the empty cell in his retina and the molting bricks of a recently forged kiln.

"Velbrava!" Icarus screamed, collapsing onto the sands, grasping his chest. "You actually have a spine!"

He couldn't help but laugh.

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Velbrava waited in the depths of Icarus' eye and watched as his elder brother's creation decimated Persephone's forces, setting the desert ablaze. He pressed his nose to the clear lens of his prison and could feel the heat on his cheek. His sister was losing, and the only hope she had left was to kill Icarus before the last of her brood collapsed.

She was brave, rushing in as she did. Perhaps she could get the upper hand, but Velbrava would not wait to find out.

He jumped down from the lens to the vats of red clay deposited in the retina. Icarus shared his knowledge with tiny drops, and Velbrava had stored the substance ever since his ensnarement. In the shadows, he built a kiln shaping bricks from the salt in a backed-up tear duct and drops of milk from his ear. Velbrava had to be careful packing the mortar, which he spread like butter across the macula. Lay the bricks too close to the lens, scratch the cornea, and Icarus would know. Doubtless, the older engineer would have his head, but with the war nearing its end, his usefulness was in question.

"Become my weather sense, and I will give you a taste of the Pallid Throne before you die." Icarus's words came rushing back and left a bitter taste in his mouth.

How sour would the nectar be if he accepted such a paltry sum? No true engineer would ever consider that offer. It was all or nothing. His brother taught him that. So, by day, he shaped the tidbits of clay into claws and spikes under his brother's gaze, but, at night, he tried something new. Icarus never gave Velbrava enough substance to design anything larger than his finger. That's when he had an idea, something outside of the box.

Why did his brood need to be any larger than his finger?

Velbrava's brothers and sisters were so focused on sheer volume and strength. Indeed, what good would sharp spikes do against a mountain's hide? But what if you didn't need to pierce the exterior at all? What if he made something so small it entered through the tear ducts and sweat glands? He had seen Icarus's bake; the shell cooked until stiff and dry, but the interior was soft and pink.

Velbrava could win from the inside out. So, he began shaping clay, flattening the dough, and pinching the corners. He made the eldriatus in his image. Velbrava Started with the back legs, rolling the soft batter into tubes, thick at one end and thin at the other. Then, coiling the muscle fibers into springs, he filled the hollow legs before elongating the toes and teasing out smooth sensory hairs.